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.
Elaine -- this is one of my favorite poems. I love the heaviness of it. Thanks for posting!
ReplyDeleteI needed to read this one today. Frost just makes me think fall.
ReplyDeleteIt 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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