A Cricket Sang Good Luck - Poem by Sandra Fowler
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
Comments about A Cricket Sang Good Luck by Sandra Fowler
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You