I once saw a blackbird
carry me to the white firmament.
I saw pure white spilling from black ink,
bleeding across blank pages.
I saw stardust rain from a blackboard,
dusting the dark shirt
of a white-hearted teacher.
I saw a blackamoor jazzman’s smile—
brighter than an entire rally of white hoods.
I saw a white crocodile
lurking in the murk for a black swan.
Color is always confusing
for a shallow man—
one who never looks past the skin.
It is always too late,
for race is drawn
before breath.
