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American Life in Poetry

SUNDAY, APRIL 27, 2014

Let’s celebrate the warm days of spring with a poem for mushroom hunters, this one by Amy Fleury, who lives in Louisiana.

First Morel

Up from wood rot,

wrinkling up from duff

and homely damps,

spore-born and cauled

like a meager seer,

it pushes aside earth

to make a small place

from decay. Bashful,

it brings honeycombed

news from below

of the coming plenty

and everything rising.

Copyright 2013 by Amy Fleury from her most recent book of poems, “Sympathetic Magic,” Southern Illinois University Press, 2013. Poem reprinted by permission of the author and publisher. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

 

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