Mushrooms don’t grow much on my trails.
They need the right combination of warmth and water, and that doesn’t happen very often.
So far I’ve found one big mushroom on my street and a few little ones on my trails.
Then finally, it showed up.
It really came.
One big trail mushroom. Only one.
That poor mushroom had a very short life so I thought I’d write something special for it.
I call it…
Ode to a Mushroom
Popping out of the ground like a puffy marshmallow
Creating a cover like a china hat
Dropping over dead.
Wasn’t that great?
Do you think I’ll be the next poet laureate?
P.S. I didn’t kill that mushroom. Really I didn’t.
bongodogblog 