I’m in an autumny mood today. Over at Wild Rose Reader, I’ve posted a bunch of poems about October. For Blue Rose Girls, I’ve selected a poem by Robert Frost for you.
After Apple Picking
by Robert Frost
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
You can read the rest of the poem here.
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At Wild Rose Reader, I have poems about October.
3 comments:
Elaine -- this is one of my favorite poems. I love the heaviness of it. Thanks for posting!
I needed to read this one today. Frost just makes me think fall.
It wouldn't be fall without at least one reading of this poem -- thanks! My fall weariness is more about fall assessments and parent conferences, and the press is not on my instep arch, but on my brain. I fall asleep dreaming of what I did say to a parent, what I will say, what I need to say, what I need to do, what must get done...and I wake up already running. In a week or two, things should calm down a bit. WHEW!
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