by Lea Marie Taddonio
Tourists at Ke‘e Beach pound over the skulls
of ancient ones.
Quietly urinate in thickets, spin tires in fine sand
groan about the clot of cars
trying to circulate out the parking lot at sundown.
The rhythm here is not the ocean
but a collective heartbeat
I am I am I am
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1 comment:
great description of the area...miss that place
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