Читать книгу The Audible and the Evident - Julie Hanson - Страница 10

Mushroom on the Lawn

What with a stem

so short, a cap

so long, so tall,

so disproportionate

and droll,

what with it standing

so alone on the lawn,

small and white,

nothing like it

anywhere around,

it was easy from the first

to resist the urge

to topple it.

One day passed,

and that cap

resembled more

a parasol

to shelter from the sun

someone pale

and imaginably small,

its silhouette

no less storybook

than on the day

before. But now,

at next day noon,

a bump’s developed

at the center of the cap.

And the surface has

more experience

—with oxygen, I guess.

It’s flecking brown.

If we are reminded of

our own hands

and our own arms,

we might detect

decline in this.

And notice, too,

the veil has dropped.

The cap is drying from

the edges in.

Furthermore,

one side has tipped,

giving us a glimpse

of gills without our close

approach or

stooping much,

visceral

without our touch.