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Posts Tagged ‘potato’

When It’s Just All Too Much

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on January 14, 2026| 2 Comments »


 
 
The more complex the problem,
the more trapped, the more closed in I feel,
the more I learn to trust what is simple,
the way the potato in the cupboard
does the one thing it can do—
it calls on whatever thrives inside itself,
then grows doggedly, awkwardly toward the light.
I want to turn toward the life that lives through me.
Give it all my energy. Offer it back to the world.

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Digging Up Potatoes

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on August 29, 2015| 3 Comments »

There is no way to know

what we’ll find beneath

the yellowing leaves.

And always I forget

which varieties I’ve planted

and where. And so, when

the Finnish fingerlings appear

just below the surface,

I thrill in their golden

skin and knobby shapes,

and when the dark purple

potatoes emerge from the depths

of the garden bed,

by then, I am already kneeling,

but something inside kneels, too—

oh the russet and red-skinned

and pink-fleshed miracle of it all,

the sheer delight

of running my fingers

through the dirt and

pulling out potatoes,

each one somehow

a surprise, a small reminder

of how beautifully

the world can work,

how the darkness

nourishes such incredible

gifts. Ten hours since

I left the garden, and

whatever inside me knew to kneel

is still enthralled in prayer.

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Digging In

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on October 3, 2013| 3 Comments »

There’s no way to know
before the spade has opened the earth
what we might find below.
By this time, I forget
what varieties I have planted,
Sangria or Russian Blue
or Russet or Yellow Fingerling,
forget what to expect there,
a still growing revelation
not so far beneath the surface.
Darling, come, bring
your spade. I’m not talking
about potatoes.

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