Fiction   Essays   Poetry  The Ten On Baseball Chapbooks In Memory

K. Edward Dunn

The Only Orange, Otherwise

Orange was the color of her dress, then blue silk; and
she was a poet at her podium, thumbing through her
pages like an upright bass solo, the rest of the quartet
quieting down; tension and resolution, tension and

resolution, improvise, improvise, improvise. Love off
the cuff, the way it was first designed; or else an old
folksong concerned with the color of my true love's hair
or the color of your eyes in the morning when you rise.

A world without orange: no sun, no shine, no she once
was a true love of mine. No, but I suppose it would be
fine; three-quarter time and a regular end rhyme.
Colors, blue in green like a pond in July as I wonder

and wander through cooler long nights, and the only
orange is a red neon sign, and the only orange is the girl
I've left behind, and the only orange that once was mine
is the only orange, otherwise.

©2012 by K. Edward Dunn

K. Edward Dunn lives and writes in New Jersey. His work has most recently been included in the WestWard Quarterly and the Eunoia Review.

  Home Contributors Past Issues Search   Links  Guidelines About Us

Subscribe to the Slow Trains newsletter