Oh the wonder of potato skins
Rooting on my window sill!
The tuber, meant to sustain new life
I have eaten.
Its atoms, calories, molecules
Are part of me.
All it has left are the skins I discarded
With their green patches and
Growing eyes.
All I give in return for my plunder
Is water.
Water and access to the sunlight.
And I watch
Day by day and hour by hour
As the growing eyes put out roots
Each time I return
To the kitchen sink
The roots are longer
The Water needs topping up
More and more frequently
And I wonder
How does the water turn
Into these white threads of root?
And the leaves
Well, we have a name
We call it photosynthesis
And think we understand.
But again, I wonder.
If I want to separate hydrogen from the oxygen
In water
I need a chemistry lab
I need an electrical current
Can the potato skins extract
These elements to use
In constructing its own molecules?
A mere potato skin?
Does it take carbon
From the nothingness of air?
Oh, the wonder of potato skins!
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About Rosalie Squires
'Who am I?' is a question whose answer keeps evolving, that can be answered in many, many ways; that has no known answer at all. But there are some clues to be found:
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