The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs), I put on black.

I folded away red, yellow, rage, and
Hope. I tucked greens, blues, anticipation
And desire in a neat corner
And I put on black.

The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs) I stacked olive, tan,
Quietude and rest in the cabinet.
And I put on black.

The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs) I watched orange
Shower up in spectacular sparks like
A desert bonfire. I put away my scarves, silver bracelets,
Amulets and laughter.
And I put on black.

The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs,) I felt
The air being sucked out of me
In great gulps of teal, fuchsia, pained
Shades of purple. I felt the air wheeling over as
I put on black.

The day we started bombing (we because no matter
How I refused, they used my name anyway)
I folded up joy, like a Bedouin's tent, bright,
Fringed and billowing and put on black.

You can hear Rebecca read In Black here