3685, a poem about the DMC embroidery floss color, burgundy red 3685,
by Stephen Beal, The Very Stuff *, Poems on color, thread, and the habits of women. (It seems appropriate to celebrate burgundy at harvest time.)
wedding-dress-formal, photo by Wedding Dress Photos, free license under Flickr Creative Commons
Say you see it in a store, in a dress, this red, you could well say,
“Too dark” and pass it by.
But you come back.
You have to come back.
This red calls your name.
It make take days for you to hear the call, seeing the kids through the flu,
or working on the annual report,
or traveling to California,
but one day you know.
It hits you so hard and so fast–while you are making orange juice,
or reviewing the notes to the financial statements,
or having lunch with a high-school friend–that,
as soon as you can get there, as soon as you can get away,
as soon as it’s okay to leave,
you head for the store,
fingers crossed that the dress is still there, that it hasn’t been
sold, that they can order it again, that you can take another
size, that even as you stand there bereft of all the dresses in
that shade in the store, a woman brings one back,
and it fits you just fine.
This red is a sleeper because it seems to go toward both blue
and brown without being purple or maroon.
It’s the red of young burgundy, a wine that will age well, and
you buy new makeup for the shade.
If you don’t have diamonds, rhinestones will do.
Lots of rhinestones.
Without a moment’s hesitation when you are wearing this red,
you stand up at a party and belt out a song.
“Yesterday.” “Heart Like a Wheel.” “Milord.”
In this red you are an unexpected star.
*no © sign was located in this book of poems, even with diligent searching
