After Apple Picking by Robert Frost 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…
After Apple Picking by Robert Frost 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…