10 June 2009

golden mushroom

a fairy circle where no fairies went

on dew-wet hillside in the still-grey light

a youthful mind gives meaning to the sight

but older heart recalls and is content

merely to pause and let the eye's descent

on harsher images and recent blight

blot out that peace still the calm old forthright

urgings of memory will not relent

now golden mushroom at the porch's end

in northern morning brings back younger days

a world adjacent just beyond the veil

so wait to see what messages they send

while the sun rises to its noontime blaze

and all the forest seems now to exhale

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