is the color of today, of summer

sunset streaked across a

foreboding sky, of my

kinky hair, of

blood, the

pumping verve of the

human heart –


Red is poetic, indignant, the

hue bleeding through

eyelids while

blinking at the sun,

red –


seeping through bell-bottom

white, in the seventh grade when

Woman replaced the lost

childhood within.


Well-red depicting

exertion, exhaustion,

excitement; well

loved –

Red, not brunette.






Red, not white or blue.

Red, not the

primary color, but



vitality and

vigor, simply:



2 thoughts on “RED

  1. Hi Bela… I never really considered Red as poetic until I read the first two verses of this poem… I was wrong… Red IS poetic…
    Beautifully written…

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