Poetry Fiction 2008

Russet

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.

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