November 29, 2017 7:15 am
I thought black was black
as in: the night was pitch black
but when I close the windows
and pull down the shades
I see shades
of black:
pure black,
light black,
eerie black and
rich black
which is not pitch black;
the night tattooed on my mind
With my eyes closed
I see black
With my eyes open
I see black
As I wait to see
the grey of day
Posted by Christopher Farley
Categories: images, imagination, insomnia, night, Non fiction, poem, poesia, poet, Poetry, words, Writing
Tags: black, colours, insomnia, morning, night, non-fiction, poem, Poet, poetry, shades, words, Writing
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