SOURCE: “Francis Reading and Reading Francis,” in Field, No. 25, Fall, 1981, pp. 28-30.

In the following essay, Walker discusses “Remind Me of Apples” as an example of Francis's skills as a poet.

“remind Me of Apples”

When the cicada celebrates the heat, Intoning that tomorrow and today Are only yesterday with the same dust To dust on plantain and on roadside yarrow— Remind me, someone, of the apples coming, Cold in the dew of deep October grass, A prophecy of snow in their white flesh. 

In the long haze of dog days, or by night 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. 

The first time I heard Robert Francis read...