by Daryl Muranaka
Beneath the tree
he digs a hole
wide and deep
to bury the hina dolls
packed carefully, gently,
into their wooden boxes
as if they were
the very baby
they belong to.
Category Archives: Poetry
Grandpa Dug a Hole Beneath the Tangerine Tree
The Hero Wakes up in a White Room
by D.S. Maolalai
You’ve seen it before.
They say a lot of writers
begin
with something like it,
because they are looking
at starting
on a white page,
and I believe them,
because most writers
are nothing
if not suggestible.
Filed under Poetry
Childless
by Natalie Crick
I lost six children here in the wood.
Even now, I see
bright hair flashes in pools of sun;
babies’ hair.
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Filed under Poetry
The Next Generation
by Cathy Allman
I pace in front of the mercury glass mirror,
hold her, try to memorize us,
if only a flicker. She’s surprised to see herself.
She studies our reflection
with those eyes that are like yours,
that are like mine in color and shape,
Filed under Poetry
The Fall of 2016
by Nancy Dickeman
We push the baby through the crush of waterlogged leaves, past
a slumped brick wall
seared by a swastika’s fresh paint.
The jagged white arms loom,
stark as hooded figures igniting
a tide of embers.
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 