Red Poem by Elizabeth Robinson

Red

Rating: 3.5


"Fate's material secrecy"

is merely a phrase

from which you made a rhyme.
Sanguine, was it,

the cunning with which
you quashed time.

Then "red" is the color
ground from ore, iron

thrown dusty through the sun's rays.
Dispersal, was it,

red blush on air
makes fatality sublime.

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Elizabeth Robinson

Elizabeth Robinson

Denver, Colorado, United States
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