'Fall' is from Robert Hass' first book of poetry Field Guide (1973). It won the Yale Younger Poets prize that year. One could cook from it for weeks, eating well the whole time. The younger Robert Hass from the back of the book:Amateurs, we gathered mushroomsnear shaggy eucalyptus groveswhich smelled of camphor and the fog-soaked earth.Chanterelles, puffballs, chicken-of-the-woods,we cooked in wine or butterbeaten eggs or sour cream,half expecting to bekilled by a mistake. "Intense perspiration,"you said late at night,quoting the terrifying field guidewhile we lay tangled in our sheets and heavy limbs,"is the first symptom of attack."Friends called our aromatic fungi"liebestoads" and only ate the onesthat we most certainly survived.Death shook us more than oncethose days and floating backit felt like life. Earth-wet, slithery,we drifted toward the names of things.Spore prints littered our tablelike nervous stars. Rotting capsgave off a musky smell of loam.
He looks like he just came back from mushrooming. Or maybe it was something else that 'late at night' messed up his hair.
Poem for a Thursday is a meme started by Jennifer at Holds Upon Happiness. Brona has a poem by H.D. this week.