Into the breach of an autumn,
light, a diluted winter’s shadow
casts its gladitorial net over hollows.
The ground is gifted with conkers,
chest warriors of a receding past,
they drop where mellow thuds thump.
Each a shiny spiked time capsule,
burgundy polished shoe hues,
smooth inside, a boy’s forty-niner;
one H. G Wells idea formed miniature.
Collecting up a handful, Wells speaks
and offers an adjustment back
to a champion conker fight,
which readily is taken and I,
I fumble for string in the back pocket
recalling the mistimed playground scuffle.
~
Into the breach of an autumn,
light, a diluted winter’s shadow
casts its gladitorial net over hollows.
The ground is gifted with conkers,
chest warriors of a receding past,
they drop where mellow thuds thump.
Each a shiny spiked time capsule,
burgundy polished shoe hues,
smooth inside, a boy’s forty-niner;
one H. G Wells idea formed miniature.
Collecting up a handful, Wells speaks
and offers an adjustment back,
which readily is taken, fumbles for string
in the back pocket recalling
a mistimed playground scuffle.
