There on the path, with none to tell its story
A single walnut lies in all its glory
What tragedy has struck for it to be
Alone and nowhere near a walnut tree?
I pick it up and cannot help but ponder
Perhaps a crow has gathered it from yonder
(Somewhere miles away I’d never roam)
And accidentally dropped it heading home
The traveller is clean and still intact
No passing rambler’s boots have crushed or cracked
It open while it lay without a friend
Save for a downy feather and squashed fag end
I take it home to: (1) give it a chance
To reunite with like and (2) enhance
Our favourite cake for tea, on which there sits
A swathe of icing sprinkled with some walnut bits