Swamp Girl

What was a brown and green grove,
is now a spectacle of cockeyed ferns.
Dank patches smudge the lawn’s edge;
moss thickens up to the snake holes.

Growing one on the other,
red maples and birches couple up.
Rootlegs intertwine and lightly test
her sponge-like membrane.

Pink fluted mushrooms rise
along the way; puckered lips
wet the crevices of rotting stumps,
as she recalls only the finest weather.

Her skirt becomes muddy & slimy;
spiders stealthily weave about her shoulders.
Breathless, she’s languid but alert
in the new-found vegetable darkness.