Black on white

There is something to be said
for a pair of blackbirds
perched on a bare branch
against a white sky
mid-winter.

They tuck their heads into
their wings, shiny black rings on
the crooked finger of a brittle-
boned tree.

Snow sits on a fencepost. Wet
pavement shines under a
silver coin of cold sun.
A puff of breath melts
a frost-tinged pane,
warming ghost-white
glass to reveal dark halls,
nightfall.

2 thoughts on “Black on white

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