The puffballs are plotting in the dark, calculating,
multiplying, terrifying,
mathematical genius defying, all guesswork –

knowing where they will rise up next, under
which mulch crawl, anthill or termite mound,
under what piece of dark lichen, bark wound or odd

leaf litter, where will they steal from the light,
milk cart showdowns, cowl wearing mystery figures
of the forest, where will they choose to pop up next…

you can map their appearances like celebrities
donning sunnies and baseball caps, wondering
where the huge shadow bulk will hide, it’s not easy

being an exponentially expansive moon, alien,
surreal, crouched around like wrestlers
ready for the ring, hunkered down and waiting

for the berserker battle cry to shriek – here I am,
so tasty, so confounding, so come
and chase me, your white hulking shadow meat

they dare us, they plot and plan, calculate and multiply
but we take that bet, that daring do, tell the tale, reason right
back at the secret creaking wood, the hunt is on, we’re here,
we’re there, we’re everywhere and we dare, we dare, we dare…