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No. 76 (June 1975)
– 49 –


Together we pick mushrooms in
The field by the river
Bruising penny-royal with our feet.
Perfume drunk, we ask no names.
We are children of the moment,
Her hand plucking the fungi
Warm, brown, comfort sure.
Mine, pale, hesitant.
Her eyes holding a world of love
Mine, still searching.
“Hey girl, here's a big one.
Take half.”
“It's yours. You found it.”
Our hands touch and
With half a mushroom
She gives me unspoken manna.
We pick again
Side by side
Sun caressing
Time enveloping.
Duet in the mushroom field.

Alison Wright