That Was the Year of Black and White
That was the year of blackbirds feeding
on the lush lawn outside the window
of the room where my sister lay dying.
That was the year of black aphids
on the cherry trees—slowly gnawing,
slowly sucking dry hope of harvest.
That was the year of black clouds
pushing in from the West, banking
over the Sierra, withholding rain.
That was the year of a white hummingbird,
feathers like snow on that Easter morn.
That was the year of faith.
Linked for the “Black and White” prompt at dVerse Poetics–please join us. These little scenes are true, but actually occurerd in different years.