Fruiting Bodies - Sept 19 2023

 

Fruiting Bodies

Sept 19 2023

A wet summer

and the mushrooms grew fat, and plentiful.

But now, decomposing

after their short fruitful lives

large clumps

of dark black glop

dot the forest path

glistening in sun.

I know nothing of mushrooms,

so assume every one

is instant death,

leave them

to the gleaners

adventurous eaters

and double dares.

Even the dogs won't touch them,

just a brief inquisitive sniff

before moving on.

But what we're all missing

is the life underground.

Their vast intricate hyphae,

talking to the trees

supporting the soil

and resurrecting nutrients

from the dead, and the moribund.

Fungi,

the overlooked kingdom

that was here long before

our sort evolved,

will outlive us all.

A subterranean city

we have no inkling of,

except when their fruiting bodies erupt

from solid ground

in the brief season

of prime picking

and toxic spores.

Like icebergs, the hidden 90%

but even more.

Because we see so much less

than we don't    . . .

see what we expect to see   . . .

look

but fail to notice.

Walking on top of a world

we never knew existed

yet couldn't live without.