Red
A red-dress girl read
a book and asked:
Should there be a butterfly?
If there were a butterfly, should it be red?
Yes, a red-winged butterfly,
skipping between blades of red grass,
tips down the dew from each one.
Drops take on the red tint
of sunrise as they fall.
Red-sparkling dewdrops like wine
fall from red grass
onto red clay,
where a red worm drinks them
until a red bird finds him.
So read the red-dress girl
a book of red, and read
it again.