"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."
— Robert Hass
From Time and Materials:
Poems 1997-2005