Original Poem / Transformation

I want to become
the wood chip that disappears
into the forest,
when you chop down a tree.
Disappear and lie down to rest, in the shadow
of an emerald fern.
Become damp and soft,
perhaps visited by a caterpillar.
Develop spores, that
transform me into a toxic fungus.
Be the death in the stomach of a fox,
and wander through his nerves and blood vessels.
To yet again lie down to rest, in the shadow
of an emerald fern.

 @SteemSwede