From time’s first day, all will agree

That certain things are true.

The grass is green, and orange is … orange,

And, yep! The sky is blue.

Of great note, though – it’s in dispute

From what I’ve read and heard –

Some silly souls have sought to change

(The very thought’s absurd) …

Oh, no! Oh, no! I wail and cry

Has someone lost his head?

For fire engines CANNOT BE

A shade that isn’t red!

Ask any kid, from coast to coast

This question that we pose,

And he will say that they should be

As red as Rudolph’s nose.

As red as roses. Red as wine.

As red as solemn eyes

That after rescued from a fire

Have broken down and cried.

As red as back in Russia the

Old communists had been.

As red as devils reveling in

Their suits of scarlet sin.

It’s time, I feel to finally put

This argument to bed.

And (here and now) affirm the whys

And wherefores of bright red.

Because … because … of poetry

And drama and romance,

And imagery and symmetry

And History’s graceful dance.

Yellow’s cute and cheerful, but

It doesn’t stir the soul.

Green’s a color perfect for

A grassland or a knoll.

But when we think of Valiance raising

Up its noble head,

Let’s face it, Chums, a fireman’s engine

Simply must be RED.

Copyright © Shelly Reuben, 2025. Shelly Reuben’s books have been nominated for Edgar, Prometheus, and Falcon awards. For more about her writing, visit www.shellyreuben.com