MOLD BLOSSOMS

winter water songs slash
upon my paper
on the sidewalk
in the grassy puddles
between dark wood shvings

sing sad songs in a January garden

slip into the sodden folds of the rode mold
big as a cabbage
fungus: white, chartuese
weighted firmly in mulch

encircled by a mourner' wreath
of long dead, still green summer leaves

accolades to life and death

suddenly this mold
blossoms heavily in my spirit