Poetry Fiction 2008

Russet

More

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)

An Eerie Tour of Chernobyl's Wasteland

"Do not touch the water. There is nothing more irradiated than the water itself."


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

Video

Is Technology Making Us Better Storytellers?

The minds behind House of Cards and The Moth weigh in.

Video

A Short Film That Skewers Hollywood

A studio executive concocts an animated blockbuster. Who cares about the story?

Video

In Online Dating, Everyone's a Little Bit Racist

The co-founder of OKCupid shares findings from his analysis of millions of users' data.

Video

What Is a Sandwich?

We're overthinking sandwiches, so you don't have to.

Video

Let's Talk About Not Smoking

Why does smoking maintain its allure? James Hamblin seeks the wisdom of a cool person.

Writers

Up
Down

More in Entertainment

More back issues, Sept 1995 to present.

Just In