Food for the soil.

[madman101]

Hot mushrooms in a little garlic salt.

Warm walnuts.

Cold tangy Kombucha.

What a delight in the early morning.

But it doesn't change the thought.

The flappers are all dead.

Soon, the hippies.

Punksters.

Millennials.

All gone to grow mushrooms.

And feed the trees.

We need them now more than ever.

Stop hogging the blanket.

Comments

[erinfondue]

Fun fact and possible way to deepen the theme of your poem: Some species of trees nourish brethren stumps with water and sugar via underground networks of roots and fungi. Keeps the stumps alive when they would otherwise be long dead.