Summer should only start at the moment
when the first ball of the opening innings
of the first test is sent down the pitch
by a bowler who has found an extra yard
since Christmas.
Whilst April and the wet dew of Spring
heralds the days when you can ignore family
for six months of luxury
of a set of headphones firmly
implanted down the ear
and the commentator’s eye finding
the slow drawn crease akin
to the artistry of Michelangelo’s David
and attendance of the