Poetry Fiction 2008



Fall apples, browning apple cores,
the mottled carcass
of an old trolley car, abandoned
deep in the forest.

What was once ambitious,
robust, rambunctious,
now burned the ruddy
color of rust,

monks’ robes, blood and dust,
faith and trust,
the russet scrape against the skin
of reddish-brown cloth.

Dick Allen's seventh collection of poems, Present Vanishing, will be published this October. He lives near the shores of Thrushwood Lake, in Trumbull, Connecticut.
Jump to comments
Presented by
Get Today's Top Stories in Your Inbox (preview)

Why Do Men Assume They're So Great?

Katty Kay and Claire Shipman, authors of this month's Atlantic cover story, sit down with Hanna Rosin to discuss the power of confidence and how self doubt holds women back. 

Elsewhere on the web

Join the Discussion

After you comment, click Post. If you’re not already logged in you will be asked to log in or register. blog comments powered by Disqus


Where Time Comes From

The clocks that coordinate your cellphone, GPS, and more


Computer Vision Syndrome and You

Save your eyes. Take breaks.


What Happens in 60 Seconds

Quantifying human activity around the world



More in Entertainment

More back issues, Sept 1995 to present.

Just In