By George Held
On the east end of O’ahu
there’s a seaside outcropping
of lava in the midst of which sits
a great eye-hole – formed
eons ago by molten lava tubes
during volcanic eruptions –
through which the surf
surges and under pressure
vomits a gusher of sea
water with a whoosh!
and then the waves back off
in their usual susurrus
of alternating ebb and flow,
keeping the mechanism
primed as one of Earth’s prime
tourist sites, cars filling
the small lot to disgorge
passengers to thrill
at the sight of The Blow-
hole, timely as Old
Faithful, its eruption
and discharge of water
in a column thirty-feet
high seemingly spewed
from the innards of the Earth,
like a stranded mariner
whose instincts reject
swallowing salt water
and force him, no matter
how wracked by thirst,
to spit it out.
George Held, a ten-time Pushcart Prize nominee, publishes poems, stories, and book reviews online and in print. A former English teacher at The Kamehameha Schools, he is retired from Queens College, CUNY, and lives in New York City.
Hawaii Pacific Review 