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Black


The color black is shaped like a casket buried in the ground
It sounds like a criminal being tracked down by a blood hound
It feels like a spear piercing my side
And makes me feel afraid, wanting to hide
It looks like a cheetah stalking its prey
It's the month of November, when all warmth goes away
It's the song of a slave running in fright
It is a black hole that consumes all light



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All poems and photos copyright of Jared Moll. Do not illegaly copy or distribute any poems or photos without proper permission of Jared Moll. Page designed by Jared Moll. January 2002. All rights reserved.