by R.A. Pavoldi
Alan used to haul lobster from this bay
pulling traps from the thick breathing air,
dove under in winter for urchins spiny
and cold on the dark green shelves,
a slow crab breathing through a hose
while his life held its breath waiting above. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Terra Oliveira
four & a half million people
visit the island of O`ahu
per year, watch the red sun
climb down into the Pacific,
escape into paradise, laugh
with the water
as petroleum from Red Hill
leaks under the island, Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Donna Pucciani
Your favorite flower,
though I never knew why,
and you never could explain.
Their bright faces reflect the sun,
aflame in yellows and reds. They turn
from shadows, disrespect the dark.
They choose petaled light, fanning out
from a core of ochre, find the pink Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Michael Hettich
is standing in a rowboat, way out. The still air
is scribbled with gnats, which swarm inside your shirt
as he stands and calls out to you. But he’s too far out to hear Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by James Ragan
Beneath the drizzling golden hues of sunlight,
a palm is swaying tall, muscular in its song,
smooth as a kumu hula sidestep, grazing the sand,
or a chanter’s muse waving a song
along the fingers to storied heights, each hand
rolling in air to dance one beat into a pair. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 