Two poems by George Campbell

22 Mar

Alone Plus One, Looking For ‘Shrooms

Along the creek bank

a thicket of heavy underbrush

vireos sing their cautions,

butterflies flit—flower to flower.

Brushing past leafy spring blossoms

I’m looking for mushrooms.

The long stemmed white gray-topped

delicious-in-the-fry-pan

elusive Morel..

Dangerously similar to these

the inedible “False-Morel.”

They have their place in nature

but not in my basket.

Systematically searching

favorite secludes year-in year-out.

Deep woods along this drainage

keeps private it’s secret treasures,

here moist in the decay

of the dead-n’-down on the ground.

I do no so love the Morel I cannot live without it

It’s just once they are gone

I’m hermetically impervious to any other.

It among the finest of mushrooms

prized, rare and delicious.

Now you and I have our place

laid out neatly on a downy blanket.

Over an open-pit-fire our rich fragrant tasty, ‘shrooms

in lemon-peppered garlic butter,

a glass of wine,

a book of poetry.

5:00 AM: Dad Early Out The Door

Under flicker of coal-oil lamp

overalls tugged on by the gallowses,

you open the stove damper

lay kindlin’ on the coals,

push a small bucket of coal

on the flamin’ sticks,

lunch bucket crammed

chock-full,

Mom in her robe

puts the coffee pot on,

and tops-off

your thermos with its darkened steam,

before going out the door

you take-a-gander to see

what you’re leaving,

I pretend sleep,

icy blast blowing

sleet against the back door.

Bio: George Fredric Campbell was born on the outskirts of rural Lovilia, Iowa. His early schooling was in a one-room country schoolhouse. He currently resides in Georgetown, Texas and in the mountains of Grand County, Colorado. He earned a BS from Western Illinois University and a MS University Of Florida.