They’re black and white
And nothing more.
They’re plain and utterly nondescript,
But in them, somehow, I can see everything.

I see a castle looming
Tall and dark beside an inky lake
Where lurks a giant squid.

I see a funny little village
Where the less than tall inhabitants
Live happily in cozy little holes in hills.

I see a shining city from the future
Sheltering its cruel and ignorant citizens
As they demand the spilling of innocent blood.

I see a snug little house in a busy, growing city
Shrouded in fog and nestled in candlelight
With a very familiar address.
Though black and white
They’re full of color.
Every winding gray turret,
Every well-tended green garden,
Every gleaming white mansion,
Every dirty brown hansom cab passing by
Are so clear to me, it’s like I’m there.

They’re black and white
And all too frail.
They are totally nonsensical-
But perfectly sensational

They’re pages of my favorite books.