mushrooms

this poem was in my mining for meaning book (which we do for lit and i just randomly read while mrs neo rambles on about 'housekeepng matters' and 'blasting us to kingdom come')
Anyway i really love it, i can just envission the little mushrooms growing slowly and almost sinisterly during the night while humans quietly slumber unaware of the monumental achievement the fungi outside their window have just performed. (heh im getting all mushy about mushrooms)

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.