All night I heard green apples drop
From their too loaded tree;
And knew each told the worm had gained
Its transient victory.
All night I heard green apples drop
And knew each told that one
More piece of fruit was doomed to die,
Unripened by the sun.
Some buds and dreams may come to fruit,
Black-seeded, sweet and firm;
And some may only blow to die,
Deep-cankered by the worm.
All night I heard green apples drop,
And as each struck the ground,
I felt upon my heart the blow
Of its dull final sound.
(Edith Mirick)
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