In a specimen book produced by Gaspearau Press for National Poetry month, I found some selections from Ross Leckie’s Gravity’s Plumb Line including the poem “Apples”. I like the description of windfalls as
perfections that paradise couldn’t hold.
which in Leckie’s poem is the continuation of a simile (the apples “are strewn / across the ground like the fallen angels, / perfections that paradise couldn’t hold.”
In my mind the many apples meld into the one and I misremember the line as “perfection that paradise couldn’t keep” — conflating paradise with the garden by way of a French recollection of the “Paradis terrestre”.
And so for day 284