Kona and His Valley

Awaken to the scent of green on foliage too broken to be rare after sleep of listless druggery from nature's sweet intent Smoking pit three shades from us with scents that only heaven knows which pump the blood to stir the mind to hunger gone insatiable Kayaks ready on the ebb with coffee brewed to mud and back with sleepy hair and whispered eyes we take to breaking water Sunrise knows our skin today and we know what she's going to say before the mountains clip her words and steal her shine in trees Today we taste the air of gods once whittled out of Ironwoods which fell to fodder with the ash in fire pits to roasting Sweet it is to fill us up to draw us back, never enough of silver skin, against the wind our muscles taut and tearing.