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s-lyman-templePoems
I Squat, under a Viney-Maple,     bursting with orange…         the Fall Chanterelle.         II Pine needles mound;     perfect little rolling hills          cover the forest floor, Chanterelles are coming!         III Her eyes shine bright,      the excitement of the hunt.           Chanterelles!         IV Five buttons in the bottom of the bucket…         V Quick movement out of the corner     of my eye;        squirrels like Chanterelles too.         VI Buzzing becomes the only reality    as another bees nest has been disturbed…     There are many perils         involved with Chanterelles.         VII Closed eyes bring forth    images of fields,      orange and extended,         as there are more Chanterelles in this patch             than anyone has ever seen. A cold sweat follows.         VIII A blackbird sits high    on a Fir limb,       lookin’ like a muthafucker in the club,           below him, a Chanterelle.         IX The scrambled eggs smell divine      when one cooks them with a fresh Fall Chanterelle.         X I throw a steak knife     with a barbeque brush duct taped       to the handle           into an old bucket I drilled holes in the bottom of                 and toss it into the back of my 1984 Nissan 4x4.                           Today I find Chanterelles.         XI The smell of musk fills the air.      A giant pile of bear ****           next to a Chanterelle.         XII Three sets of tracks lead into the undergrowth,      cut butts jut up from the floor,          someone already found                these Chanterelles.         XIII Stopping by a dear friends,     I leave with them my treasure…       three pounds of fresh         Fall Chanterelles.
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Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
Thirteen Faces of the Fall Chanterelle
I Squat, under a Viney-Maple,     bursting with orange…         the Fall Chanterelle.         II Pine needles mound;     perfect little rolling hills          cover the forest floor, Chanterelles are coming!         III Her eyes shine bright,      the excitement of the hunt.           Chanterelles!         IV Five buttons in the bottom of the bucket…         V Quick movement out of the corner     of my eye;        squirrels like Chanterelles too.         VI Buzzing becomes the only reality    as another bees nest has been disturbed…     There are many perils         involved with Chanterelles.         VII Closed eyes bring forth    images of fields,      orange and extended,         as there are more Chanterelles in this patch             than anyone has ever seen. A cold sweat follows.         VIII A blackbird sits high    on a Fir limb,       lookin’ like a muthafucker in the club,           below him, a Chanterelle.         IX The scrambled eggs smell divine      when one cooks them with a fresh Fall Chanterelle.         X I throw a steak knife     with a barbeque brush duct taped       to the handle           into an old bucket I drilled holes in the bottom of                 and toss it into the back of my 1984 Nissan 4x4.                           Today I find Chanterelles.         XI The smell of musk fills the air.      A giant pile of bear ****           next to a Chanterelle.         XII Three sets of tracks lead into the undergrowth,      cut butts jut up from the floor,          someone already found                these Chanterelles.         XIII Stopping by a dear friends,     I leave with them my treasure…       three pounds of fresh         Fall Chanterelles.
s-lyman-temple
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s-lyman-temple
American
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
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