Black and White Days

On the white days, I walk into the town by the old farm road. It is muddy, yet the sun shines and everything is in its place.

On the black days, I never feel like walking anywhere.

On the white days, people can say what they want and I smile. Life is good.

On the black days, every word lands with a spike and I wonder why I carry on.

On the white days, I understand why people are the way they are.

On the black days, I wonder why people are the way they are.

On the white days, I forgive myself everything.

On the black days, I hate who I am.

On the white days, I wait at the station for a train.

On the black days, I wonder when to jump.

On the white days, I forget about the black days.

On the black days, I forget about the white.

bobby stevenson 2020

picture: rainy day, Queens, 1931 - Martin Lewis.