It’s his eyes
pecan shaped and
gray like a timber
wolf mesmerizing
that drew me in
like the songs of
sirens
his smile is broad
and toothy it’s his giggle
that makes me giggle
like ripples in a pond
it’s the questions he asks
which tickle me most
they’re silly
little
questions that make
me smile

Clouds race
by my windows
being swept by the
broom
of trade winds
an old blemish
Diamond Head
it’s a scar
which turns brown
in summer
all the houses
pay homage to
the giant