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Mushrooms,
decomposers,
denizens of dark and death,
moist decaying places.

Mushrooms feast on the energy of a dead tree:
a tree full of structures
it built up for itself
over happy sunny days.

A tree whose time is past
no sap to carry through its veins
no leaves to capture power
from the far-off nuclear plant.
Woody structures now sit idle
yet still carry life-force, only

bottled up. Waiting to be unlocked.
Mushrooms hold the key.