The sky is blacker than a bottle of ink
by Sophia White
Spilled across a panther’s pelt
In the deepest, darkest cave.
There is no sound but Silence.
No music plays but Quiet
The very air has fallen still.
No beast moves, no bird takes wing.
No man breathes, no child sings.
Nothing is – but black.
But suddenly my eye can see
A single, solitary life afloat on the black.