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January 25, 2006
After Apple Picking
"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".
This imagery sets the stage for the rest of the poem, and things get less clear from here.
Posted by BrendaChristeleit at January 25, 2006 8:30 PM