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Leaves have disappeared, Only the last, The fallen fruit, remains, Fading red and waiting frost. Not yet visible, the latent buds Hang silent now on leafless boughs.... Summer's work, Fallen in this garden of the Lost Beneath autumn branches lies... Graveyards of apples. Only the passing deer, Only the roosting turkey, Only the raiding geese, Bend low to pick the last of harvest up, Quick provender Before the coming snow.
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May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 10:55 AM UTC
Last of the Crabapples
Leaves have disappeared, Only the last, The fallen fruit, remains, Fading red and waiting frost. Not yet visible, the latent buds Hang silent now on leafless boughs.... Summer's work, Fallen in this garden of the Lost Beneath autumn branches lies... Graveyards of apples. Only the passing deer, Only the roosting turkey, Only the raiding geese, Bend low to pick the last of harvest up, Quick provender Before the coming snow.
don-bouchard
Written by
66/M/American
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 10:55 AM UTC
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