orange mushroom fallen

orange mushroom fallen 
among dead brown leaves succumbs 

to a gnawing squirrel

Uprooted from the ground where it was ingesting its surrogate mother, a mushroom lies on a bed of dead brown leaves, its orange skin and white flesh flashing a spot of brightness in the somber autumn scenery. The mushroom cap is littered with a sprinkling of dry dirt that clung to it when it pushed up through the soil, and dirt still clings to the curved tip of the fluted stem.
          The mushroom appears to grow like a plant, rooted in one spot. Yet in some ways it is more like an animal than a plant, for it does not make its own food by eating light, as plants do, and in fact can live quite well in total darkness. Instead, it absorbs food from its surroundings, filling the crucial role of recycler by decomposing dead plants, like the fallen leaves it has fallen among.
          This particular orange mushroom is itself being recycled. It lies uprooted and the orange cap bears the tooth marks of a squirrel on one edge. After consuming nutrients from plant detritus and then providing a snack for a plant-eating animal, the mushroom will now rot among the dead leaves on which it was feasting, bringing the cycle of life full circle.