B & W

In Black and White

Like keys of ebony above the ivory’s glow
in the bright of a single spot, and
like the raven who scratches morning’s snow,
I play a somber tune.

Like wartime headlines screaming loss
in 48-point bold atop the page, and
like the black-dressed widow darning socks,
her chair and basket the only props;
this white-washed street the stage
where a leading man once stood,
I play a somber tune.

Sunlight and time may bleach the notes
and fade them from the page,
but ‘til there’s light in this dark mood,
I play a somber tune.

- Ralph Murre