Red Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Red

‘Red’, I read
And I think
Blood is red
Her lips are red
She wears red
And he, red handed

Red, I think
Pomegranate is red
Our carpets are red
And in Spanish, Net is red
(A group of things tied together)

‘Red’ I say, ‘don’t make mistake’

She is sitting
She is eating something
(I can smell egg)
I need to go to men’s room
‘Can you? ’ I think of asking her
‘Ask her to watch in your absence’
I think before asking her.

She’s texting
She’s slow
Very slow like Maxine
(I saw her today)
Her face fluffy
(What from, maybe cold? ”
She’s Caribbean girl.
But not this blonde in red
(With poor eyesight)
She’s almost glued to her phone
(My mom comes to mind with her magnifier)
“Can you help me thread this needle? ”
She asks.

Mom never wore red unless for celebrating the Omar’s death.