fungus-riven

Updated: May 22, 2025

They lay under the fungus-riven trees till the hens ate them, pecking gingerly and enjoyably at their lustrous beauty as the world does at a poet's heart. In the kitchen-garden also the hens took their ease, banqueting sparely beneath the straggling black boughs of a red-currant grove.

Mary Gladys Meredith Webb - Gone to Earth