Written by: Brian Strand

It was mid-summer,
evening league cricket.
Fifty years fade from view
they’ve labelled it
Twenty-Twenty and think
of it as something new.

We batted first,and scored
a few;I placed my bat
in the crease.A bowler 
more than a batsman,
I took  guard.

Giving it a clout, to leg,
a richoctet split my
top lip and smashed
two front teeth so I
quickly retired,not out

Twenty-four hours passes
my lip stitched, two crooked 
teeth removed from sore 
gums, learning as well,
we lost by five runs.

With a few weeks a plate 
fitted with two new teeth.
Each night now I smile;
sometimes one split second
will improve a profile