Red

Ernesto Trejo

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One time
the whole world wore red.
Flowerpots, earth, blood, flesh.
Red water sifted through red earth.
Perplexed birds filled their beaks
with dirt-red air; I saw them
through red irises, and beyond
a heaven carved out of sulphur.
Red--the beginning, veins, the sun's lament.
Red--crabs, their hungry pincers.
The wisdom of the heart is red.
Red was for Stop, don't do it.
The dust on the roadside was red
and the first star that winked
was a premonition of the scratch
of a paw upon my hand.

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