Mushroom

MUSHROOM

Mushroom cap, orangey-red,

Sprinked with spots upon your head,

Soft white belly, joy to touch,

Wonder—do you whisper much?

Underneath your hat perched so

Fan the slats, about they go.

Like a pinwheel, delicate,

Spiral eaves so intricate.

At your foot the earth is damp,

Round you all the faeries stamp.

Black the forest, all around,

Bright you glow, so crimson-crowned

While all the while, quiet lies;
A careless step is your demise.

                                                          

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