The sorrow felt around Australia and the world at the death of Phillip Hughes last week has prompted a Charles Sturt University (CSU) academic to pen a poem in tribute to the young Australian cricketer.

Associate Professor Joy Wallace, the Associate Dean (Learning and Teaching) of the CSU Faculty of Arts, said, "I shared the shock and sadness that many of us felt last week at the death of cricketer Phillip Hughes.

"Though I'm a long-time cricket fan, I had no bat to leave as tribute when the movement to 'put out your bats' started. A cricketing friend sent me a photo of the bats he had placed outside his gate, and I was compelled to start writing this poem. It brought me some small comfort to write it, and I offer it in the hope that it might also give some consolation to all of us mourning Phillip."

When all the silent bats are out – in memory of Phillip Hughes

The sounds we would expect to hear are stilled
there is no tapping on the compact earth
as stolid openers await the fray
The keeper's mute, the slips have stopped their chat
No one hears the bowlers grunt, or groan
when a nick flies through the air and not to hand
The drinks are poured - we hear no thirsty gulps
the umpires bow their heads and hold their calm advice
the seagulls, baffled, pull up stumps and head for home
The crowd, stock still, must see their grief and shock
blown up brightly on the giant screen

Nowhere more hushed than at the empty crease –
surely, if we strain our ears, we'll hear again
the bat swish, fast as light and sweet as air
the sharp click of wood on ball
cut through point beyond the rope
the ringing rebound, the young fan's cheer
the joyful cry, the yell of 'Two!'
or the hoopla of the winning run

We must do something to unclench our hands
now that the hundred won't be made
The bats unearthed and propped at gates
and doors, on grounds and fields,
grace royal courses and schoolyard posts
sad willow voicing the words unfound
to speak of why, the courage shown and skill regained,
the passion clear was no sufficient shield
as the last ball struck and all was quiet
Perhaps we may rest and understand
when all the silent bats are out

© Copyright Joy Wallace 3.12.14 - Creative Commons licences policy