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
by Lucas Carpenter
Tech experts found it interred in the paint,
a husk of the torso in light vegetation green,
evidence of the flying insect hazard
of plein air painting. There must be
more bug corpses buried in the corpus
of his work. He once complained
about picking flies from fresh creations. Continue reading
by Joseph Murphy
The wind’s labored words smashed pine cone and shell.
White caps ignited, plunging
though gable, eave; eddying
within the hum of bees. Continue reading
by Jory Mickelson
forget the man in the boat
forget its white boards
forget the light on his face
the steel locks that he’s resting
above the oars Continue reading
by Elmer Omar Pizo
We scarecrows, propped up alone or lumped in groups of twos or threes
in the middle of the rice fields,
feel all right even though we can’t exchange glances, talk to each other,
or walk away from the fields. Continue reading