by Anne McCrary Sullivan
Hōkūle’a, teach me how to be on the dark sea
without a chart, clouds obscuring stars.
Teach me how to hold back panic, read the waves.
Teach me to trust the ancestors, who knew more
than I yet know how to know. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by J. Tarwood
Slowly sandy-eyed,
I wait out mist
rising in my head:
Time left behind
is after me still.
Filed under Poetry
by Meredith MacLeod Davidson
As a solo violist, I rued the overt.
I faked it in performance.
I told my grandmother
(a woman who paid for two
degrees in music education)
I faked it in performance.
Filed under Poetry
by John Tustin
I see the moment in my mind
As if I was not a participant but witnessed it –
Like an old black and white photograph
Of two people in a single speck of time
That has defined their entire lives to a stranger.
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 