As I traveled to Vancouver to see my friend Alexis, on the bus I noticed this poem. Poetry in Transit is brought to Vancouver bus and sky train riders through the Association of Book Publishers of BC. I was reminded of the Sunday walks we used to take as a family in the woods, and how we would always be on the look out for new and interesting mushrooms to look at.
My boot almost crushes domed towers dew-beaded,
sprung in the night through loamy ground,
knobbed umber caps on vellum stocks frilled gills underneath to breathe in the deep.
Mushrooms surprising sprouted bright
white buttons on blackened logs, or fleshy
ruffles from ruin where tub and tiles meet.
Precious fungus—shitake, chanterelle,
oyster, portabella and truffles—
sponge-tongued taste of earth.
Spores float like words,
take hold in the cold and wait
to bloom in the dark.
~Cynthia Woodman Kerkham