Behold the apples’ rounded worlds: <br />juice-green of July rain, <br />the black polestar of flowers, the rind <br />mapped with its crimson stain. <br /> <br />The russet, crab and cottage red <br />burn to the sun’s hot brass, <br />then drop like sweat from every branch <br />and bubble in the grass. <br /> <br />They lie as wanton as they fall, <br />and where they fall and break, <br />the stallion clamps his crunching jaws, <br />the starling stabs his beak. <br /> <br />In each plump gourd the cidery bite <br />of boys’ teeth tears the skin; <br />the waltzing wasp consumes his share, <br />the bent worm enters in. <br /> <br />I, with as easy hunger, take <br />entire my season’s dole; <br />welcome the ripe, the sweet, the sour, <br />the hollow and the whole.<br /><br />Laurie Lee<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/apples/
