The sun breaks in the mornings
It spills lemonade over broccoli
an egg cracked on the Ko’olaus
and fried over Koko Head
it’s gold, bright
I’d be a millionaire, billionaire
if only I could capture the gold in Hawaii’s sun.
It demands the stand-alone colors
to be vibrant, beautiful.
The mountains are emeralds
the plumerias rubies
the sky sapphires
the ocean blue topaz, aquamarine
Birds chirp too loudly
sing with full-breasted songs.
The world is naked
revealed in this blinding white light.


Oceans grow warm in the heat
The sun thaws the heart,
forces love to the surface.
When setting,
the sun submerges itself quickly, turning
orange, tangerine, mango, disappearing
fast behind the horizon leaving only
scattered colors of tanzanite, red, orange, pink
in its wake.
Then you sit as waters turn dark and wait
for a flash of green to bring you home.


Nights are spread out, long, lazy
purple. The sky is plum with diamonds
and it moves, it sways like the trees.
Look up, blink, it’s different.


Hawaii is precious stones.
The words live in the breeze there.
It’s sticky, muggy, lovely words.
This is for you,
my first home, my heart.

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