Have you ever noticed how a single, seemingly inconsequential moment can stay with you long after its surrounding memories have faded? A girl walking, a red flower — a quiet color that manages to draw attention away from the noise and motion around her.
Something about her calmness, her small, deliberate steps, her smiling without smiling, made the world feel briefly softer. I couldn’t let go of the thought. Years later, it still lingers. This poem is my attempt to capture that feeling. The rarity that is beauty appearing without asking to be noticed.
The Red Flower
An Asian girl with a red flower strolls musically past,
tap-taps echoing on cracked concrete.
Filtered sun through honey-amber clouds paints her face
with patient streaks like nature’s rouge.
She glides past weaving cars, blissfully unaware
of loud, angry tailpipes, coughing grey wisps.
Alone in the crowd, she bends her gaze with pensive care
at the imperfectly perfect petals.
And I wonder.
Why red?
