used with permission by photographer, Jaime Brandel
What is Black?Black is the nightWhen there isn't a starAnd you can't tell by lookingWhere you are.Black is a pail of paving tar.Black is jetAnd things you'd like to forget.Black is a smokestackBlack is a cat,A leopard, a raven,A high silk hat.The sound of black is"Boom! Boom! Boom!"Echoing inAn empty room.Black is kind-It covers upThe run-down street,The broken cup.Black is charcoaland patio grill,The soot spots on the window sill.Black is a feelingHard to explainLike suffering butWithout the pain.Black is licoriceAnd patent leather shoesBlack is the printIn the news.Black is beautyIn its deepest form,The darkest cloudIn a thunderstorm.Think of what starlightAnd lamplight would lackDiamonds and firefliesIf they couldn't lean againstBlack...~ Mary O'Neill
This poem is from a marvelous book called Hailstones and Halibut Bones by Mary O'Neill. The image is from an incredible photographer, Jaime Brandel.