Poems

Christopher Palmer: ‘Nightwatchman’

Nightwatchman The view is an open field undisturbed by nature. Nothing ahead except a man twenty feet tall and whiter than a prayer about to run at me, downhill with the wind and sun behind. He knows most about me; the line and length of my head. No looseners just half a second to find out if he’s an early or late swinger if he has leg-cutters or knuckle balls. Sent out and sent up. Eight deliveries left and the Mexican wave’s petered out. What to do? Just get the bloody bat down and hope! Christopher Palmer

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