EARTH-STAR

It dwelt ages-long in the earth,
A part of earth itself, a questing,
Spreading net of filaments.
One rainy spring it burst out
Scattering its meaning through the world:
Wherever there is soil without network,
Without potential, there let it be—
Earth is waiting for this, it will decide
On its flourishing, or its failure.

For now the fruiting body lies,
A powdery husk, an open hand,
Amongst the grey grass, thistle-stalks
Bleached under the high, empty air.
It is detached, broken to pieces
By the world’s feet and weather.