Autumn red, and the silent leaves
Release that rustle which is a scream for them.

Rolling down the road too fast and it turns red;
they scream.

Crashed and on a gurney, he reaches for her hand;
His red blood spills; she screams.

Feet up in those stirrups and pushing,
She turns red and screams.

Bursting from a womb,
his tiny red face screams.

Alone now, accounts all deep in the red,
she screams.

The little one grows to love the trumpet; her face turns red because
Even out in the garage, practice sounds like screams.

She sits in the stands, cheering and red,
Screaming for his marching band.

She forgets her hat; her thinning grey part blisters.
She forgets the red until she takes a brush to her hair and screams.

They hang a big rainbow money thermometer to fundraise for his trip.
When the red is colored in, they scream.

Judges measure the competition in audience decibels;
They’re screaming for him and the needle swings up red.

Famous now, a deferent doctor calls him about her results. Too many red numbers
Appear on the page. He drops his head but doesn’t scream.

Autumn red, and the silent leaves
Release that rustle which is a scream for them.