Argosy, September 1955 — page 86: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

84 BEHOLD the apples’ rounded worlds: juice-green of Fuly rain, the black polestar of flower, the rind mapped with its crimson stain. The russet, crab and cottage red burn to the sun’s hot brass, then drop like sweat from every branch and bubble in the grass. They lie as wanton as they fall, and where they fall and break, the stallion clamps his crunching jaws, the starling stabs his beak. In each plump gourd the cidery bite of boys’ teeth tears the skin; the waltzing wasp consumes his share, the bent worm enters in. I, with as easy hunger, take entire my season’s dole; welcome the ripe, the sweet, the sour, . the hollow and the whole. LAURIE LEE commiclooks.Ccomn