THE PROBLEM OF DESCRIBING COLOR

If I said – remembering in summer,

The cardinal’s sudden smudge of red

In the bare gray winter woods –

If I said, red ribbon on the cocked straw hat

Of the girl with pooched-out lips

Dangling a wiry lapdog

In the painting by Renoir –

If I said fire, if I said blood welling from a cut –

Or flecks of poppy in the tar-grass scented summer air

On a wind-struck hillside outside Fano –

If I said, her one red earring tugging at her silky lobe,

If she tells fortunes with a deck of fallen leaves

Until it comes out right –

Rouged nipple, mouth –

(How could you not love a woman

Who cheats at the Tarot?)

Red, I said. Sudden, red.