it's micro-chasm world
moss lush, green sprung up
like fairy-ring mushrooms
in warm, moist weather.
deep ravine bark, cleft
miniscule, delicate creations
blooming upright, but small:
tiny-dainty-little fungus
bobble head poking through
umbrella, weathering the storm
so small,it never gets seen
am i the first to greet him?
i believe
i wish to be so small.
i'd slide down the itsy ravines
sip from droplets, dine and dash
in velvet forest mist, i'd lie
live and die in the hollow
silently and unnoticed
and be as i really am
trifling and low.
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