Red

In a first-time event, this poem has a dedication:



To the birthday girl, from whom I borrowed a couple of lines.



Title from Okkervil River (MySpace)



This is not a red cat

with patches of brown

and a keen interest in you,

even if it's only when it's hungry.



This is not a red house

with white shutters to shut prying eyes

out from our party that squeaks

when it's filled with red rubber balloons.



This is a red flower

that I picked as the color of love

and the color of your hair

after you dyed it last winter.



This is a red flower

because I'm allergic to cats

and your house is states away

and I wish that I could see you today.