To Israel Kamakawiwo, IZ
Tell him the sea has receded and the stars are jumping on its bare bed.
Tell him that history was a seagull hungering our names.
Tell him, if he is silent, if he isolates himself, God appeased the volcano,
created for us this island.
Tell him that I wait for him under the almond tree, barefoot and still tousled,
with shimmering hoops. Hawaii, Izzy surfing clouds, playing ukulele.
Copyright © Roxane Aristy | Year Posted 2019