"Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone ..." William Wordsworth

28 March 2017


The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants - 
At Evening, it is not
At Morning, in a Truffled Hut
It stop opon a Spot

As if it tarried always
And yet it’s whole Career
Is shorter than a Snake’s Delay - 
And fleeter than a Tare - 

’Tis Vegetation’s Juggler - 
The Germ of Alibi - 
Doth like a Bubble antedate
And like a Bubble, hie - 

I feel as if the Grass was pleased
To have it intermit - 
This surreptitious Scion
Of Summer’s circumspect.

Had Nature any supple Face
Or could she one contemn - 
Had Nature an Apostate - 
That Mushroom - it is Him!

Emily Dickinson 

No comments: