Avaloù

APPLES

 

Hervé is at the top of the tree

That hums in the uproar of a wild wind,

For he's shaking it as quickly as he's able

So that, like a barrage of colossal hail

Ricocheting with the sound of billiard-balls

The mottled red apples fall.

And with the slope they roll

One after the other

In a dizzying dance

To the foot of the hedge

That they strike against ... Dazed.

 

January 1962.