An Encounter with the Destroying Angel

I found this in my garden last Wednesday, in a pot containing a small Christmas tree that didn't survive our long hot summer. Having a morbid preoccupation with all things poisonous, venomous and otherwise highly dangerous, I could tentatively identify it as amanita virosa ... 

... otherwise known as the Destroying Angel ...    

... and having sought a second opinion from friendly expert, Bruce Langridge, this does seem to be the correct conclusion.  

In any event, I didn't make mushroom soup with it. I wrapped it up, put it in the dustbin and washed my hands. Dog safe, partner safe, poem written. 😎

I can't share the poem because by the time I've finished tweaking it, it might turn out to be good enough to take its chances in the world. So here's one I prepared earlier, from my first collection Communion.

Earth Stars

From the chronicles of trees

she wants monsters

baleful Destroying Angels,

stellar brides of hell

all innocence and virulence

in petticoats and veil,

or troops of gleaming Death Caps

goose-stepping through leaves

marshalling for massacre

in copses, killing fields, as if

escape clutched in her hand might gift

illusory control.

In forests damp and warm

in thickets blanketed by spores

the Prince with Devil’s Fingers

knows their secret, loamy holes.

He can smell them, see them, feel them swelling

opening the ground

thrusting through the litter

with a hungry, crackling sound. 

He finds her Velvet Shanks and Blushers

puts an Amethyst Deceiver in her hand.

In the sultry, starless dark,

she’ll settle for a zodiac

of flesh and pearls and earth.