"The Grand Silos of the Sacramento" by Lawson Fusao Inada

Lawson Fusao Inada was born in California and is third-generation Japanese-American. In 1942, he was sent to various internment camps around the country. The camps, and his love for jazz, have influenced much of his poetry. He was appointed Oregon's poet laureate in 2006.

The Grand Silos of the Sacramento
by Lawson Fusao Inada


From a distance, at night, they seem to be

industries—all lit up but not on the map;

or, in this scientific age, they could be 

installations for launching rocket ships— 

so solid, and with such security, are they. . . 

Ah, but up close, by the light of day, 

we see, not “pads” but actual paddies—

for these are simply silos in ricefields,

structures to hold the harvested grain.

Still, they're the tallest things around, 

and, by night or day, you'd have to say 

they're ample for what they do: storage. 

And, if you amble around from your car, 

you can lean up against one in the sun, 

feeling warmth on your cheek as you spread 

out your arms, holding on to the whole world 

around you, to the shores of other lands

where the laborers launched their lives 

to arrive and plant and harvest this grain 

of history—as you hold and look, look 

up, up, up, and whisper: “Grandfather!”





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