I found 2 conkers in my desk drawer.

I could return them to the forest floor

Where they would rot and be one

With fruits and flowers long since gone.

 

Autumn is in the air,

Yet I do not care

To return them to the ground.

 

A thought, perhaps profound,

We are all bound

To join Mother Nature’s great store

When we, as leaves fall

And become as one

With generations long gone.

 

Conkers may be put away

In a drawer.

But Autumn’s fall

Says all things must decay.