Poem – On Sunday Morning

On Sunday Morning

– William J. Gibson –


I knew a song once about crocodiles

You used to hum it on your bike


When you were ten and told me

about it one morning in bed


Your eyes were blue and I tried

to see you as a little girl who cried


But all I saw was the hot burn of your lips

the tossed gold of your hair

and the black ice

under your eyelashes

Author: William J. Gibson

62 year old - writer/photographer Canadian, survived open heart surgery, received kidney transplant, sometimes dour, sometimes amusing, over six feet in height, severely follicle challemged

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s