Horse Chestnuts is a prose poem that tells a short story and presents an objective truth. In this poetry video, I share the experience of an autumn walk and I remind myself of an important lesson.
The video and the poem can be found below.
Falling as it ripens, the horse chestnut plunks to the pavement and tap dances in the dirt, free from its spine-covered coat. The spikey husk lies open, its prickly casing, nature’s medieval mace, not yet crumbling into dust. The child in me bends down to pick up a shiny russet nut and then again and again, packing my pockets with their mahogany glossiness, their handsome enamel gleam. Sheltering one warmly in my palm, I hold its glow and stare back at the buckeyes still on the ground with their solid polished faces. But I am not fooled. Those faces hide dull-colored scars that belie their perfection. I move along the road, reminded once again, that the gleam and the dull are two sides of the same whole. I cannot have one without the other. I gather them both.