(For Frances Sloan who sent me pictures from Tollymore forest. We have the same in Victoria Park )
We are what we are
We are what we are
And more than it looks like - you don’t see much
We are mostly underground - our web
Of filaments spread out among the trunks
We are what we are
We eat the dead - the rotting of the ancient wood
Digested darkly on the forest floor
Dissolved and sucked into our toothless jaws
We carry spores
Our bodies ripen in the forest mulch
Down in the fox trail and the crumbling mud
We are the mothers - we are pioneers - the ark
When we’re ready we burst laughing
Split open in the summer - throwing
Dust into the air weightless in the wind
Or buried in the fur of stealthy paws
We are what we are
You may think we’re shapeless - but
We are the shape we are
We’re bulging, loaded clouds - live lumpen on the roots of Tollymore
Anita Greg 11/05/2020
Comments
Post a Comment