Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FIRST FRUIT, by ISAAC ROSENBERG



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FIRST FRUIT, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: I did not pluck at all
Last Line: O, shut hands, be empty another year.
Subject(s): Gardens & Gardening; Winter


I did not pluck at all,
And I am sorry now:
The garden is not barred
But the boughs are heavy with snow,
The flake-blossoms thickly fall
And the hid roots sigh, " How long will
our flowers be marred?"

Strange as a bird were dumb,
Strange as a hueless leaf
As one deaf hungers to hear,
Or gazes without belief,
The fruit yearned " Fingers, come!"
O, shut hands, be empty another year.






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