Lucky Red (A Poem)

The color of
of mornings
and sunsets,
of fate
and flair
and feelings
and flame
lays its claim
to the leaves
And we –
only passing and
making our way
in this world –
we get to see
for the briefest time
this lucky red
that dyes
the ties
that bind.
How fleeting,
fading fast,
it seems,
and nothing lasts,
they say.
But this,
surely this
we can hold,
always there,
and bold,
in our memory.

15 thoughts on “Lucky Red (A Poem)

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