Friday night it rained
and so, under dusty Saturday thunder
handfuls of mushrooms appeared
in the neighborhood my sons rode
their bikes across, Dad strolling beside
—made me wonder how
these fungus flowers might be related;
one large organism, snaking underneath
the streets and driveways?, or sister-fronds,
cousins maybe: maybe old, centuries older
than our houses, construction circa 1973—
when did these spores land, taking root,
biding patiently for Oliver’s young hand
to pluck the stem and run his fingers
over the soft grey-brown underbelly ribs
while dark, dry clouds rumble overhead,
bikes on the pavement, Dad and sons
curious children together?
July 2020
No comments:
Post a Comment