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143 another​reluctance Chestnuts​fell​in​the​charred​season, Fell​finally,​finding​room In​air​to​open​their​old​cases So​they​gleam​out​from​the​gold​leaves, In​the​dust​now,​where​they​dropped​down. I​go​watch​them,​waiting​for​winter, Their​husks​open​and​holding​on. Those​rusted​rims​are​rigid-​ hard And​cling​clean​to​the​clear​brown, And​the​fall​sun​sinks​soon, And​the​day​draws​to​its​dark​end, and​the​feet​give​up​the​gray​walk, no​longer​lingering,​light​gone, and​I​am​here​and​do​not​go​home. Hollow​gifts​to​cold​children: The​chestnuts​they​hid​in​small​caches Have​gone​hollow,​their​gleam​gone, Their​grain​gone,​and​the​children​are​home. ...

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