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The Problem of Describing Color Robert Hass

If I said- remembering, in summer,
The cardinal's sudden smudge of red
In the bare gray winter woods-

If I said, red ribbon on the cocked straw hat
Of the girl with pooched-out lips
Dangling the wiry, black-nosed lapdog
In the painting by Renoir-

If I said fire, if I said blood welling from a cut-

Or flecks of poppy in the tar-grass-scented summer air
On a wind-struck hill outside Fano-

If I said, her one red earring dangles from her silky lobe,

If she tells fortunes with a deck of fallen leaves
Until it comes out right-

Rouged nipple, mouth-

(how could you not love a woman
who cheats at Tarot?)

Red, I said. Sudden, red.