ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Weekend,
and the rain
that gave them birth
is now gone.
She walks ahead;
searching,
smiling,
excited.
I smile back;
watching,
waiting.
she turns.
“Here!”
she calls.
“Bring the basket.”
So I do.

I like mushrooms and your poem - you can get high on both - watch out for those gold tops

Thanks Maureen.