What do you think of this Robert Frost poem?

hah

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The Cow in Apple Time
Robert Frost

Something inspires the only cow of late
To make no more of a wall than an open gate,
And think no more of wall-builders than fools.
Her face is flecked with pomace and she drools
A cider syrup. Having tasted fruit,
She scorns a pasture withering to the root.
She runs from tree to tree where lie and sweeten.
The windfalls spiked with stubble and worm-eaten.
She leaves them bitten when she has to fly.
She bellows on a knoll against the sky.
Her udder shrivels and the milk goes dry.
 
I think the cow got milk fever.
What is it about Frost anyway?
She was udderly crazed.. with the fever
but I thought the cow jumped over the moon?
Or perhaps mad cow disease is nothing new
or feverish poetic minds are renowned.
 
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