The Mushroom!

The Mushroom.
By Emily Dickinson.

The mushroom is the elf of plants,
At evening it is not;
At morning in a truffled hut
It stops upon a spot.

As if it tarried always;
And yet its whole career
Is shorter than a snake’s delay,
And fleeter than a tare.

‘T is vegetation’s juggler,
The germ of alibi;
Doth like a bubble antedate,
And like a bubble hie.

I feel as if the grass were pleased
To have it intermit;
The surreptitious scion
Of summer’s circumspect.

Had nature any outcast face,
Could she a son contemn,
Had nature an Iscariot,
That mushroom, — it is him.

Artist Jane Newland

Text and image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook https://www.facebook.com/531188960392510/posts/1709029689275092/

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