Red is
a geranium, the only flower I can’t kill.
It’s a blood orange in the west
and a sign that means stop.
Red is
the crunch of leaves,
a cardinal’s song, and hummingbirds fighting at the feeder.
It’s a barn full of stomping hooves and swishing tails.
Red is
a warm tomato fresh from the garden and strawberry freezer jam.
It’s my mother-in-law’s red cinnamon applesauce in the same glass bowl
and a stick of licorice.
Red is
sore throats and cherry popsicles.
It’s wounding,
and it’s healing.
Red.
It dances on Rahab’s cord and breathes letters of hope.
Responding to Jennifer’s challenge to write a color poem. Make your own here. Drop it in the comments below, over at Jennifer’s place, or on your own blog. Be sure to share the link.
Oooh, I love how you got Rahab in there!
Very nice!
So glad you wrote a color poem….red. It’s your color.
Oh, luscious and lovely!
Loving that red barn! I’ve thought about trying this … you’ve shared it so well.
Could you write a color poem in which you ARE the color? I would love to see that (or maybe you have one in the archives?)!