When I read Jane Kenyon's poem Potato, I was instantly reminded of a poem I wrote about going potato picking with my Dad as a youth. While both poems concern potatoes, they address the subject in quite different ways.  Potatoes alone might not appear to be an overtly popular subject for writing poetry. However, it is a challenge for all writers to inject interest into topics and ideas previously considered mundane  or pedestrian and celebrate the unique qualities such items possess.  I note that I have written about potatoes on numerous occasions -maybe I have an affinity for the starchy staple.  And so I bring you the humble spud.   Potato by Jane Kenyon   In haste one evening while making dinner I threw away a potato that was spoiled on one end. The rest would have been   redeemable. In the yellow garbage pail it became the consort of coffee grounds, banana skins, carrot peelings. I pitched it onto the compost where...