red drum

for Laura Ann Brooks

red drum

pom pom

red redder reddest

bloodshot red

through and through

like pomegranite juice

dripping from your

ripe red lips

red like passion fruit

and blood oranges

red with a 1000 warriors 

on horseback
entering the valley
speckled with houses

red red red red red red red

red like a fresh wound

trimmed with plastic wire

red like steak or carrion

red red like the pain that's

dancing on my head

red red red

red with grief and anger

carving myself to reveal

bone gristle

red as the tail of

the sparrowhawk in winter

gliding into the ribs

of a white rabbit

hawk eye red

red like urgence

red like corpuscles

red red red red drum

pom pom

my sacred heart

overflowing with

love and disgust

my sad long life

finished in red earth

Footnote:
This poem developed out of a writing exercise at the weekly Astoria Poetry Workshop with Laura Ann Brooks:  "I am a color." Red flashed immediately into my brain and took hold of me; the initial draft was done on autopilot, as most of them are for me. The exercises really help me break through to new ideas and metaphors. I am eternally grateful to Laura for every Wednesday night, especially now that I am well enough to leave the house once in a while: it's been a year since I last attended. And no matter how sick I am or how much pain I am in, I am able to lose mysef and forget about it somewhere in the first hour. xoxoxoxoxo