January 3, 2012

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)

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