Warm air incases me, thawing me
Vog stings my eyes but not calling it my home is something I can’t visualize.
Taking comfort in tank tops and traffic.
Familiar faces filling familiar places.
Bougainvilleas creep through the walls
Shadows stalk the sidewalks
Faded murals decorate Ali’i.
The bumps and curves of Holualoa road
Never changing. Knowing where the drop offs are,
Knowing where to turn off,
Knowing where the crazies kill.
Why leave? Why leave safety?
Why leave home?
I ask myself,
Knowing I will.