A Cricket Sang Good Luck

I sat against your knees all night.
I watched the sun rise in your coffee cup.
In all that time you never spoke to me.
I think I must have cried a thousand tears.

Inside the wall a cricket sang good luck.
The irony of that did not escape you.
For when I tilted up my chin you smiled
To think how once he conned us with that song.

The morning rises white against the pane,
Bland as a sheet of paper without words.
Our eyes communicate it silently,
I think this fog goes on and on, my friend.

I sat against your knees all day.
I watched the sun sink in your coffee cup.
I think we must have cried a thousand tears.
Before the cricket sang us both to sleep.

From my book, 'The Colors Cry In Rain', Apollo Books, USA

by Sandra Fowler

Comments (51)

Lovely piece of poetry, well articulated and nicely penned from the heart. Thanks for sharing.
Poignant, yet tinged with sadness. Memorable words.
Simply beautiful Sandra...I have missed your words.
Some moments are speechless. And some are priceless: were nice if the cricket could've work his magic once more.
Indeed powered and propelled by jocund thoughts Ms. Nivedita UK
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