When thunder growls and prowls but will not go
Or come, I lose the memory of apples.
Name me the names, the goldens, russets, sweets,
Pippin and blue pearmain and seek-no-further
And the lost apples on forgotten farms
And the wild pasture apples of no name.” —American poet Robert Francis (1901-1987), “Remind Me of Apples,” in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Autumn 1948