RED IS THE MEMORY OF FIRE

They told her that some colors
do not fade with weather or time—
they linger the way vows do,
binding the living to those who left shape behind.

They said the earth keeps a pulse
beneath its stones and treaties,
and whoever leans close enough
can still hear the old drums
under every courthouse and churchyard.

They taught that devotion
is not proven by loud witness,
but by tending a small flame
without letting the wind
talk you out of it.

So she keeps what was carried
through grief and burning—
not out of nostalgia,
but because a people survive
by refusing to forget
What once made them unkillable.