the red door

for years
she talks about having
her front door
painted red.
when the weather is
good, she says.
when it stops raining.
I just need to pick
the color.
it's a door she never
uses. it overlooks
the steep
hill and the fast
road
of moving traffic.
the enters the house
through the back only
where she parks
her car.
another year goes by.
she calls
and talks about the door
again,
the door she wants
to be painted red.
it wouldn't take you
long,
maybe in the fall,
she says.
when I get back from
Ireland. if you aren't
too busy.
I just need to pick a
color.
a nice bright red,
but not too pink or
burgundy. a Christmas
red. do you know what
I mean?