now is the time
of the mushroom
that looms
in the loam
and blooms
like a poem
and unfolds
like a foam
a lark
in the dark
now lit
by a spark
unbeknownst
til i awoke
to the joy
of its joke
the surprise
to my eyes
in still gray
the sun’s rise
now is the time
of the mushroom
make room
much room