In Black and White
I sang in black and white, many songs
And the bells. And everything was gray,
Blending sounds over my ears and light
Only could penetrate a moment
If it was ordained by solitude.
Solitude, that and everything else
That dogged my steps and swimming strokes
Threatening my mind with candles
In constant procession around my bedside/ gravesight.
The longing of those hands left me tingling
But I was too awake for them and the effect was minimal;
Waves don’t roll over the moon, only the light over water.
With that impression settled, my thoughts calmed a bit
And I wrote again the tide too far, too far.
Then again, nothing is ever settled and the shadows
Still spoke whispers under the windows, calling...