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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 shake the shimmer from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the water-trough,
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and reappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
And I keep hearing from the cellar-bin
That rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking; I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall,
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised, or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.
Robert Lee Frost
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Read poems about / on: sleep, winter, tree, water, heaven, world, night, dream
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Comments about this poem (After Apple Picking
by
Robert Lee Frost
) |
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comments about this poem (After Apple Picking by
Robert Lee Frost
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Denvor Fernandez
(2/11/2009 12:59:00 AM) |
Man is born strong.He becomes tired during old age. He can not enjoy the apples of life.He sleeps.He dies.
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Siobhan Martin
(5/18/2008 11:24:00 PM) |
The ladder represents life, each step being a different stage. As the narrator ascends toward death he views the apples, representations of life experiences, some taken and some left behind. Through a haze, he begins to see those experiences clearer, and mentally he descends the ladder revisiting the experiences he had in his youth. Some of these experiences were good, and those he “cherished” while others were better forgotten and sent to the “cider-apple heap.” As death becomes certain, he contemplates what that final hour will hold, either a long hibernation like sleep, or a man made creation of heaven. This is a poem revealing the contemplation of those about to embark upon an unknown journey, while still holding onto the one tangibly personal aspect of their life, their memory.
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Nia C.
(5/21/2007 8:46:00 PM) |
this poem makes no complete since to me? anyone understand?
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J.T. Best
(11/11/2005 2:03:00 AM) |
It is about After Apple Picking by Robert Frost that I stand in passionate opposition to the mainstream literary world. I have tried in vain to have my interpretation of that poem published but no one appreciates my insight, so I stand alone and must do it myself. In order to build upon the notion that the poem is a bit chauvinistic, laced with sexual depth and filled with lust, I have crafted the definitive essay that sets forth in vivid detail the poem's often touted but never explained sexual connotations. I welcome any reader comments regarding my journey into the depths of the Robert Frost psyche and should you choose to express yourself in reply, then please do so within the bounds of law and intellectual decency. All such emails will be posted. Please be advised that I consider the content on the second page of my website as intellectual literature for adults only. Go to: http: //whendarknessfell.tripod.com/
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