auburn

The world is a magical realm today. The trees are still shy in showing their colors while the true colors of my insides blaze a scalding red.

"Home" curls into beneath my flesh like a cat in a window, watching the world from the safety of windows. I let the red inside trip into dark auburn as I turn my face upward to hear the sky tell it's secret tales. The auburn is the moment of peace. A break in the burning pain of red.

Acorns crunch underfoot. A fat chocolate cake bakes snug inside the oven when I get back. I carry pumpkins, bright and firm and the color of honey and sage and tangerine, to the front porch and sigh into the rhythm of work and rest.

Yet where the word "home" is, the red colors within leave me constantly braced for pain even while the Maker gets ready to sing October into life. The warmth can still survive inside freezing bodies. The two can live together- home and pain, red pain. Red like dying leaves.

But I'd rather hear these six hooligans resounding through these floorboards than the clock ticking 1 AM on any given night.