Word & Song by Anthony Esolen
Poem of the Week
After Apple-Picking
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After Apple-Picking

Robert Frost
2

The scent of apples ripening on trees, and overripe, falling to the street, sometimes to be eaten by one of us neighborhood kids, more often to be thrown like a bumpy baseball at a post or a sign, brings me back to my boyhood, and the days of fall, inevitably also the days of school with their resignation to sadness, and a good winter coming on, t…

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