I sat against your knees all night. <br />I watched the sun rise in your coffee cup. <br />In all that time you never spoke to me. <br />I think I must have cried a thousand tears. <br /> <br />Inside the wall a cricket sang good luck. <br />The irony of that did not escape you. <br />For when I tilted up my chin you smiled <br />To think how once he conned us with that song. <br /> <br />The morning rises white against the pane, <br />Bland as a sheet of paper without words. <br />Our eyes communicate it silently, <br />I think this fog goes on and on, my friend. <br /> <br />I sat against your knees all day. <br />I watched the sun sink in your coffee cup. <br />I think we must have cried a thousand tears. <br />Before the cricket sang us both to sleep. <br /> <br />From my book, 'The Colors Cry In Rain', Apollo Books, USA<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-cricket-sang-good-luck/
