A late September burst of sunny days
helps make-believe that Summer’s set to last,
but while the season’s flowers still earn praise
Autumn’s first steps are littering the grass…
Conkers have fallen from horse-chestnut trees,
encouraged by the coldness of the night,
here, spiky chestnut shells beside ash keys –
but not one shiny conker is in sight.
Quite safe on this estate from boy’s attack,
this tree is not beset with sticks and stones –
yet not one conker sits on grass or track–
and empty shells now lie where they were blown…
The only clue – brown fragments I have found –
proves early deer have cleared this patch of ground.