        Â
         "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