Sounds of Old Plantation Days
I miss the sound of the cane trucks tonight
Hauling cane through old sugar towns.
Not the bounce and rattles of the empties,
As they head back to the fields
Over the twists of narrowing country roads.
It’s the dull muffled thump of trucks
Laden with tons of fresh cut sticky cane
That pass my silent, sleepless nights.
I’m not alone on these nights,
In company of faces sitting high
In darkened cabs, the glow of half-burnt cigarettes
Hanging from their lips like summer lanterns.
As I read this poem I could feel the damp, but strangely cool warmth of days and nights in Hawaii. I also felt a vague sadness at seeing the sugar cane fields with uprooted stocks and an industry dying.
So we preserve those memories in poetry. And April’s a good month to do this.
Very nice painting of the picture, Frances. No wasted words to interfere with the message. You are a joy to read!
As a dumb haole, I have a very haole-like question: The sugar industry is dying?
Where will my chocolate covered doughnuts come from?
What about my 3 Musketeers bars and their creamy noughat?
I gotta have an ice cold Pepsi when watching a game at the ballpark!
The poem, however, was lovely, Ms. Kakugawa–evocative and warm.
Dear Haole-san*,
Please take a good look at your chocolate covered doughnuts and candy bars the next time you’re into forbidden food. You’ll notice a deeper red in the chocolate. They’re made from beet sugar.
I should have sugar-coated my poem for your better enjoyment.
Thank you to the Haoles above for their kind words.
*Haole in Hawaiian initially meant “newcomer” but means Caucasian today.
Did I just get a Hawai’in “beet” down?