Forever Red

Not brown;

Not burgundy;

Not orange;

Red.

The shade of a fox -

A splash of titian on an Autumn trail -

Beneath the setting gouache-sun.

The hue of a penny,

Erupting copper from a piggy bank,

Landing heads-up on sidewalk.

A Red so steadfast in the country of my ancestors,

Slainte! Erin go bragh!

But now so hard to find,

Beneath the hands of a beautician with a flask of dye.

Once matching my young niece’s, my vibrant strands begin to fade,

Dispersed with Time’s unwelcome grey.

A copperhead won’t dwindle to lackluster ash,

A flame won’t don a dreary cloak to hide its flash.

Fire burns brightly ‘till its final act,

And so shall I - a fierce Red lioness,

With her identity intact.