Skip to content →

POEM: Red is…

Mark Rothko, No. 301 (Red and Blue over Red), 1959 – Moca Permanent Collection

Red is…

the color of the rush
the sound of the audience
the flame behind your eyes
the tingle in the fingertips
the vibration inside
the salt on the tongue
the cast of the rain
the taste of need
the washing over of the past
the end of the tunnel
the soft touch of skin
the hard echo of calling
the turn of the key
the clatter of footsteps
the remains of ashes
the promise unspoken
the thought unvoiced
the blush of truth
the cry of a hawk
the whisper in the hallway

Red is the ringing phone
that is never answered.

Red is the back that turns
to the pounding on the door.

Red is the question that
no answer ever rises to meet.

Red is the waning
of the moon.

Published in Audio Poems My poems Poetry

6 Comments

  1. And red is my face after reading your interpretation of red! Thank you for posting it. My poem with that title (written after a very unpleasant episode in February) is considerably more amateur!

    • Thanks, Vivienne. Is your poem online? I’d love to read it.

  2. Vibrant. Energetic. Fiery.

    • Thanks! I look forward to reading your poem, too.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.