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Morels Show Themselves

The woods were wet; there was a smell of anticipation that we only smell in August.  My feet sunk down into the damp wet leaves, and I began to feel the morels, watching me, taunting me. I could taste them before I found two large enough to pick.  


damp and gingerly
quite deep in the underbrush
morels show themselves

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger

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