by Angela Nishimoto
For AJM
Blue butterfly with black, brown
And green marks. Carried by the breeze and
Her own limp exertions, she beats
Her wings dizzy without sugar-fuel for
Two days. Blown from continental beach
Out to the Pacific Ocean, she opens her wings, closes.
Swooped upon by the god-wind, she cannot resist.
She is lepidopteran, an animal, so she must eat. Continue reading
by Paula Goldman
after Monet’s Impression, Sunrise (1873)
Each morning when the sun streams
into the bedroom from the lake,
I see Monet’s Impression, Sunrise.
How he did it in one sitting! No,
he was standing at a window
overlooking the harbor at Le Havre. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Delphine Hirsh
It was hot. So hot. Triple digits by eight AM. The twins and I sat on towels in the car to avoid burning the backs of our thighs. I “held” the steering wheel with my fingertips. The twins had rivulets of sweat lacing their ears when I kissed them goodbye at the schoolyard and drove away. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Stan Galloway
He wasn’t sure what had led him here. He knew only that he had to get away from Cape Town, from the campus, from the Aquarium, from the flat, from everything that reminded him of her: Ingrid. He had driven the old Citroen mechanically, turning on whims, and hours later sat on the rocky beach looking south where he knew Antarctica lay 7,000 kilometers away, in its safe stability of ice. A stability he coveted just now. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Jim Willis
Another local family pick-nick
at the old airport beach in Kona.
The uncle casts a round net
into the surf over a sandy shoal.
Someone taught him the mechanics of the throw–
the division of the folds, the drape, the posture.
He moves with the grace of ancestral gods
and spins the net like a web on the wind. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 