Black and White Bookends

Yesterday’s heavy sky hung low and grey, yet the birds seemed unconcerned. Their black-and-white silhouettes drifted between cloud and light, carrying a quiet reminder that even beneath the heaviest skies, nature continues to write its own story. This poem grew from those fleeting moments in flight.

Black and White Bookends

Come fly with me, my friends,
I’ve heard our heavy sky’s on the mend,
defying the world’s breathless trend.

Today is not the end.
Feel free, there’s no need to pretend.
Let us all transcend
this man-made pitchblende.

We are not to be condemned
for wearing nature’s black-and-white portends,
between her unpenned bookends.




The black-and-white birds drifted on beneath a healing sky, while the clouds continued writing their own silent story on the wind.

Nature’s bookends are no longer unpenned. A poem now sits quietly on the shelf between them.

Ivor Steven © November 2026