Photo by Timothy Dykes on Unsplash
The warm picked mushroom melted in my mouth like magic.
My sinuses cracked and opened to the earthy odor of the autumn forest floor.
A deafening silence broken by sudden sounding autumn leaves rustling.
My hands grasping deeply into the moist mulching mounds sensing the earth's most fertile mushroom growing grounds.
While lying on back with my eyes staring high, my sight now a vision as a high as the sky.
Mgm 9/22
About the Creator
M.g.M
Writing is my creative tool to express emotional triggers and learn to adapt and excell my personal path of healing and linguistic wordsmithing. A lot of what I write does not always make it here. Most from now on will be here.


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