Sentimental Journey

When I was a boy in our back yard was a fine, healthy chestnut tree
Attached to a limb there was a rope, a swing tied there just for me

In the fall of each year horse chestnuts fell to the ground
Not just from my tree but from many trees in our small town

The chestnuts were enclosed in an outer husk of bright green
Inside, emerging nut looked a bit like a big shiny brown bean

Next was a shiny brown shell containing the chestnut meat
That meat was not unattractive but was bitter and foul to eat

Why the simple chestnut shell seemed beautiful I never understood
But I collected chestnuts from many trees around the neighborhood

By the time that chestnuts fell our fall leaves were in a giant pile
Into which I was allowed to jump in and bury myself for a while

Then the leaves were moved out front to the edge of the street
In went my chestnuts and we were ready for the evening treat

Burning leaves and popping chestnuts together through the night
The sound and smell together, a multi-sensory delight

It does not surprise me that a famous poem was of a tree
When I think of what that chestnut memory means to me

On many mornings as dawn overtakes the night
i ride my neural networks until the early light

All those magic place near the Mediterranean Sea
And back where I grew up and my sweet chestnut tree