Black & White

Grandpa claims his blood runs black,
But the blue veins are just for show,
And the black-light-glowing white hair
Is just for a little while, such a little while,
To an old man once a child,
And Black is the color that once stained
Those locks, ticking clocks, time and locks,
Banished by the white-hot washed-out gleam
Of years shining through skin,
Bone showing through hair,
No one cares, not really, no, but
Not yet time to die, or grow cold.
Death fiend dancing in the air above his head,
Icicle trident poised breast high,
Heartbound and hungry.
Black blood and white hair,
a little while, no one to care.
In the babble of the world,
Only the final silence
Is eloquent.