The Redland Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

They all talk about the Redland.
The locals warn you it's 'Redland, ' not 'Redlands.'
Rich terra cotta soil bursts forth into
giant blood red bougainvilleas
pale purple jacarandas
and creamy white frangipanis,
compete with sky high royal palms
touching the royal blue sky.

Yes, they all talk about the Redland

With all this, why do I sit here terrified?
For you see, your ranch here has no locks.
Many doors with glass panes
look out to the golden day.

But when night falls
What shall I do?
What shall I do?