My Moleskine's Cover's Black

My Moleskine’s cover’s black, the pencil

I use is, well pencil coloured, but what I

Write on its blank pages, then hide with

A snap of its black elastic, that’s coloured

With the yellow of my mornings, the clear

Water I start my day with, white toothpaste,

The red of my eyelids fighting against the

Shower, before the Tiffany blue of my bath

Towel, the soft cream of my sheepskin

Slippers, the jumble of whatever clothes I

Might pull on, the sheen of my fridge, the

Print of my palm on its steel door handle,

The beige, nut brown, berry red, blue, or

Dry fruit yellow, of my overnight oats, the

Bevelled rim clouds the jar while I pull it off,

Reach inside, ladle out my bit of Bircher.