The Crush

Sugar cane harvest
in full swing,
season of the Crush.

Syrup in a cane,
fields of candy sticks in green,
giant harvesting machines

collecting sweet payback,
bumper crop of lolly,
even sweeter now,

the bitter aftertaste
of last year’s flood
has been sugared.

Cane is stockpiled
on trains and trucks,
ready for mills.

Empty fields of mulch,
a working man’s stubble,
make a farmer smile.

These are the Sugarlands,

sturdy cane is crushed,
money flows again,
a win never tasted so good.

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