poetry and prose about place

red, red, red

leave a comment »

Autumn, no doubt about it. When I go outside, I see red everywhere. The red of the leaves of red maple, many already on the ground. The red of the lily-of-the-valley berries. The red of the crab apples on our little tree at the end of the walkway. The red hips on the rose bush beside the driveway. Red, red, red.

DSCN0920 (2).JPG


DSCN0902 (2).JPG


DSCN0905 (2).JPG


DSCN0907 (2).JPG


DSCN0917 (2).JPG


DSCN0919 (2).JPG


red, red, red


each rose hip edge

an ellipse to complete

the curve of rambling canes

berries red, mellow to orange

the white shine, highlight, tipped

with the black remains of blossom,

once pink, now vermillion of vermis,

cinnabar, poisonous, mercuric, toxic

lily-of-the-valley, raceme of berries

dangle, vivid crimson blush, bright

spot on fevered cheeks, the child

thought the berries good to eat

scarlet sigillatus, decorated

small images, pixilations

of woman with camera

limps to reach third

red, ruby, purple

red crabapples

in bunches


in rain



Copyright Jane Tims 2019

All my best,


Written by jane tims

October 9, 2019 at 7:00 am

I'd love to hear what you think...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: