Jubilee Blues            Anguish and grief, like darkness and rain,          may be depicted; but gladness and joy,          like the rainbow, defy the skill of pen or pencil.                                               —FREDERICK DOUGLASS   The books were all about November — dying light, brown withered leaves, black ink on white paper, words to call the colors. And I was sure I understood. By candlelight I read about despair, and understood. I read about freedom, too, and of love and the words for its colors, and I could recite those words. What did I know? Above the wharf, above the masts, above the smoke and stink and roaring might of New York, I saw the sky for the first time, and the docks were alive with free men in blue; the sky was a blue beyond all my words, my books — I laughed with the men, and began to cry.     © Michael Fleming Williamsville, Vermont January 2013