After Apple Picking

” 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. “

 
 
After Apple Picking 

by Robert Frost

 after apple picking

after apple picking

after apple picking

after apple picking

after apple picking

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