Poem 3, You, Birch

You, Birch

If I were
a mushroom,
I would be
the scaber stalk
bolete which does not
keep well and which begins
dying as soon as it leaves
the birch it grew
from. No bolete
is poisonous except
for the red ones
that stain blue.

I would not
stain but would be
the closest to red
without being red.

The mushroom grows from the roots
but I think if I were one, I might grow
close to the bark, some dried up place,
to deceive. I’m not saying I’ve done nothing,
more like my want for you is debilitating.



--September 2009
Marlo Barrera