At Waipi’o
While we pulled taro and
Toted it by the lau to
The ‘auwai where we
Stripped roots, shucked mud,
Severed corms for today’s cookpot from
Huli for next year’s
While we cradled huli like newborn babes and —
One by one,
Calf-deep in mud that
Threatened to reclaim us —
Returned to the Mother what she called out for.
While our fingers weeded and our
Mouths chattered and our
Skins beaded and our
Hearts opened and our
Stomachs growled for lunch
A heron waded where
No one toiled, where
Taro dreamt in its watery world
Undisturbed
It stalked the lo’i on
Huli-legs
Then plied the air on
Lau-wings
lo’i, taro patch; lau, taro leaf; ‘auwai, irrigation ditch; huli, taro stem
copyright 2011 Carol Rosenblum Perry