poem 3 of a poem a day for 2012

potatoes 

huddled in the cellar

rooting for eyes

finds the cold dark

a warm place

to grow

to want

to be formless

to long

for the Sun

as if in a dream

to keep a lanterned

watch on all the sounds

slow exhales make

the accordian wings

we feel when the wind

lets go and we know

to trust that a fall

is merely a faster flight

in the inexorable

spread fingered

formless want

for growth

for thirst

for faith

for open 

mouthing the rain

EJR (c)