the apple orchard

There used to be an apple orchard
As far as the eye could see
And over there, across the brook,
Round a bend, an ancient tree.

No fruit upon its tangled boughs,
Since all long fell away
But now and then, it bursts in bloom,
If the larger trees don't keep it at bay.

I wonder if the tree ever got its time
Or if it sprouted at the orchard's end
The last apple to ever fall to earth
Would be a horror to contend.

I think its farmer never thought of its kin
Or if it could survive the death knell.
The farmer thought only of his own extent,
The scion who learned how to live well.

So we'll leave this old tree round the bend,
Back over the brook we go
But I don't think I'll ever forget,
How it taught me everything I know.

Rotten on the ground
Rotten on the ground
This apple's lying rotten, browning on the ground
The far fall doesn't seem so far at all
When you're an apple lying rotten, browning on the ground.