"Red"
Red looks like my father's face when he is angry, disappointed, or ashamed.
Red smells like his worn and tattered work jacket; like mothballs and morning air.
Red feels like the soft interior of his '77 Chevy, restored to perfection in the '80's, now sitting in a junkyard somewhere down south.
Red sounds like the toy fire truck he bought me in my childhood (the one I left at the beach and cried about for days).
Red tastes like a stick of cinnamon gum from his shirt pocket.
Red is a feeling of being home in my father's safe embrace.
If anybody out there wants to try writing their own color poem, here is the format:
TITLE = color of your choice
insert color looks like fill in the blank
insert color smells like fill in the blank
insert color feels like fill in the blank
insert color sounds like fill in the blank
insert color tastes like fill in the blank
insert color is a feeling of fill in the blank
