Horse Chestnut

Eamon Grennan

The leaves are falling from the chestnut tree.
Last week they glowed and flamed with Autumn fire; Now that the underlying bones are visible,
The ripe fruit falls, is hidden in the grass.
Will my spiked husk split too, the leather core Soften in mould, the quick seed germinate, Unfurl pale infant hands,
Lift candelabra of praise?