O’ahu


On the first day, dad said, 
“Let’s get the heavy stuff               pūpū a ''Ewa
out of the way,” so we went                                   i ka nuku
                                                                                                e lawe mai

 

to the Punchbowl to visit
Benedicto, the father he lost
when he was three months old.          ahe  'āina
                                                             mai no

 

The last time dad was
at the Honolulu Memorial,
there was no paved road,
no office, no map with directions.                  alahula Pu'uloa
                                                                                               he ala hele

 

His mother would bring
Chesterfields and li hing mui.               nō Ka'ahupāhau
Tell him to wait
under the banyan tree. There
were things she had to say
now that his dad was asleep.                           pūpū a 'o 'Ewa           i ka nuku e
                                                                                            lawe mai

 

It was just as quiet.
Dad would pretend the rustling.     ahe  'āina mai
branches were Connie Francis singing                        no alahula Pu'uloa
“Pearly Shells.” She had
his mother’s voice. He says                                              he ala hele nō

by now he’s forgotten the words,                    Ka'ahupāhau
but we know better. He is like his father
who was found in Vietnam
with three pukas in his pocket.                           pūpū a 'o
                                                                                       
'Ewa i ka nuku e lawe

 

One for each son. To boys
crossing the Pacific, the Island
is always home.                               mai ahe 'āina                    mai no alahula

U298 is Benedicto’s gravestone.             Pu'uloa                           he ala hele
The dusk smells of
plumerias and salted plum.
                                                                no Ka'ahupā

My dad is sitting cross-legged when
he remembers the lyrics:

 

i apau huna one i ka kahakai / ua honi nau
ho
'i koe lawa na / pakahi hoku 'i ka lani

 

He opens his eyes to hear
the banyans singing,
     leans over and whispers,

Daddy Benny, it’s baby Darin.
Mom has called us home.

Poetry

15 July, 2023

Kiana Shaley


Kiana Shaley lives and writes in Long Beach. Previous work of hers has appeared in Annex Magazine, The Racket, and Sims Library of Poetry’s Poem-a-Week.