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More poems by Sylvia PlathSylvia Plath | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments (37) | Books by Sylvia PlathBooks by Sylvia Plath

Mushrooms

Sylvia Plath

Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly

Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.

Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.

Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,

Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams,
Earless and eyeless,

Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. We

Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking

Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!

We are shelves, we are
Tables, we are meek,
We are edible,

Nudgers and shovers
In spite of ourselves.
Our kind multiplies:

We shall by morning
Inherit the earth.
Our foot's in the door.

Added: 7 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 20 Dec 2014 11:43 PM | Viewed: 68607 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1416/ | Viewed on 20 December 2014.
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