by Arah Ko

King Kamehameha stands, shrouded in gold,

staring out into the open

ocean, gazing east, right hand held out:

a greeting, or perhaps a sign for white

sails cresting the horizon, one gigantic palm

to press back change, to push back time,

as though he had not died,

as though his great strength still kindled in the islands

where the one-ton stone he hefted as a boy

still sleeps, still stands in modest power,

as though to say I was lifted once

by a rightful king and can be again.


Arah Ko is a writer from the Big Island of Hawai`i. Her work has appeared in journals such as The Blue Route, Diverse Voices Quarterly, The Blue Marble Review, and The Pub, among others. When not writing, she can be found explaining her name pronunciation to baristas, or in the ocean.

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