Winter Apples
As winter apples stored in binsA fragrant heat keep onAnd sweeten in their wrinkled skinsThough suns of seasons gone,
The loves I stole from summer's treeAnd plucked before their primeIn winter bins of memoryGrow sweeter all the time.
From The Haloed Tree. Reprinted with permission of Kathleen Forsythe, Cogswell's literary executor. Back to Selected Poems