Sunday Starbucks poem

Success (an erasure poem based on a Sunday Sports story from the NY Times)

A little more than three years ago,

The man

Told her the future.

The man seemed

An unlikely clairvoyant.

His predictions

Stuck—

Distinctly outlandish:

A romantic rise,

A cash-filled corporate push.

On Sunday:

The future,

Exactly as predicted,

Has arrived. 

Honolulu's Beach Walk Haiku: A Mall on the Streets

Watching people pass.
Each one with a tale
to tell, carried in a bag.

Honolulu hype--
The beach is hidden by stores
Where no soul can shine.

It's about money.
Everything has a high price--
even the sandy beach.

For rent:  chairs, bikes with
floating wheels, shade umbrellas,
mats, boats, snorkeling gear.

But some time past:
Taro fields hugged the waters,
Stars danced in the sky.

Missing Maui

Missing Maui

One day later,

I miss Maui:

The hotel cats on the lush lawns,

The sunset hulas,
guitar music with breezes from the sea.

We walked and talked,

Admiring the aquamarine blanket of water,

The pillowing sand covering our feet

As the tide came in,

Out.

Our son caught sun,

Drank in his fill,

Opened and closed,

Opened again like a flower

On the Golden Shower tree.

We, too, found singular

And coupled rhythms.

And, like the sea,

We ebbed and flowed--

A rhythm we can carry

home.