Reclining in wrapping indifferent to its contents,
the tidy row of portobellos lies chilling;
scaly surfaces restricted by saran to fit,
shipped far from forest understory
now gasping for breath through tiny
puncture-perfect holes.
Carefully pulling free vulgar covering,
breaking bread now with the heart of mycelium
transporting me into underground networks
where leaf mold poises over soil and secrets.
I honor this delicacy, relish the treasure;
and sit enraptured by savory mushroom meat,
digging in with licentious abandon.
Love, love, love! What a glorious ode! All the best to you, Bela!
Haha, thanks Karyn! I LOVE mushrooms, and my husband, not so much. He doesn’t care if I eat them of course, but since we cook together, it seems unfair to always make him pick them out, though sometimes I do. He’s away for the week, so I’ve been indulging myself overly – plus, in less than two weeks I visit my daughter in Portland (OR). So I’ll Really get to savor some amazing fungi!
Glad you liked the piece 🙂 And all the best right back atcha!
Now that’s quite an ode to the mushrooms”transporting me into underground networks
where leaf mold poises over soil and secrets.”. Loved those lines.
Aloha, and thanks for your comment! I struggled with ‘poises’ – it was ‘poses’ but that didn’t feel right. Ahh, how I suffer for my love of mushrooms 😉