Solstice
I hold the tender
flesh of mushrooms
twisting into clusters,
remarkable yellow
fruits of mycelia
woven into logs.
These delicate webs
connecting life and death
breaking down remains of
trees who are done –
their purpose now only to
feed the forest,
to crumble as the
fungi blossom.
2 thoughts on "Solstice"
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Nice! I love the image of the tree crumbling as the fungi bloom and all that says about time and change and the way the earth renews itself.
Love those delicate webs! Very nice poem.