A Season to Forget

It feels strange, the leaves falling
and the sun still so warm,
despite a wind that blows
each night leaving
the prickly cases of chestnuts.
This season is disappointing,
a long winter and hot summer,
the chestnuts are falling too soon,
small and hard, not as burnished
as they usually are.
Reminds me of us,
of me and you and you and me
and all we promised
during a strike when the
post wasn't delivered
and the note I left on table
never got read, just lead us
to the path which followed to the beach
and the tears, were they real
or just sand and wind?
Autumn comes hard to me,
the season of my birth
the season of my fail.
I relish in the wailing winds,
listen as you embellish truth
until no-one knows the lies
that slip and drip from your lips.
So the chestnuts are hard and small,
lacking colour and taste,
I won't catch leaves this year
there are far too many,
I'll boil a pot of salted water
and prick the nuts as they fall,
a preamble to the roast and
all the forgotten toasts to us.
I wish I didn't care so hard
or hold my silence so fiercely;
mine was the lot to protect,
yours the one to forget.

Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 686 times
Written on 2013-10-18 at 17:27

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This autumn seems to lack the colour of the last.
Perhaps it's the trees though maybe it's me...

Lovely writing Elle. A melancholy piece of music.

xox Nick

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Very nicely done, Elle. You've got everything working together: autumn, the end of a love, the undersized chestnuts. I don't know if you're familiar with it, but there's an English expression, "an old chestnut," which means an idea or saying which is cliched and no longer interesting. It made me think of your chestnuts as having doubled meanings, though that may not have been as you intended.

I find autumn brings memories, like yours perhaps, which are both poignant and a little tough to handle. Alas, I find that winter, spring, and summer also bring such memories.

This is a stunningly lovely poem, and sad.

I like the way you compare the subtle change in the falling of the chestnuts to your relationship to the character you're addressing in the poem.

I never liked autumn (I was also born in late autumn). Yes, the leaves are colorful and pretty and the cooler temps are refreshing, but the leaves are turning red and yellow simply because they are dying and I prefer greens and blues to reds and yellows and browns. I usually start bemoaning the inevitable approach of fall around the middle of July. Gotta stop doing that.


I always feel Autumn is the season for reflection and you have done this exquisitely. I have a horse chestnut tree at the top of my garden, see them fall each year, always makes me think of life etc.

Ghost of Heino
so thats how you roast them !!!
Oh my, the hidden treasures in this beauty!

Elle i hope this season to forget the past and try a new openness.
your friend salem

josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
A brilliant poem Elle, but... so achingly sad. My your future Autumn's be kinder to you than you see them now.