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 Lucas Smith
On our last day of volunteering
There were leopard sharks
In the shallows breeding.
Hundreds of sharks
Swarming like milk in coffee.
Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Jim Tilley
Filed under Poetry
by Meg Weston
For forty years I brought armloads of anthuriums
to the rim of a crater lake far from home, to curry favor
with a youthful goddess. Those sexy, heart-shaped flowers
with penis-like spadix, lay limp against the gaping black
of Halemaumau, hidden beneath a crust, hints of heat
in steam vents and cracks like etchings on the surface. Continue reading
by Janet E. Irvin
The hummingbirds have all but gone.
One last good feeding and they will chitter
goodbye, cock tiny heads, wing away. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 