Poppy Juice
There is an island in an alien slant
Of water running endlessly on its edge
Whose mountains shut at sunset like a plant
Against a sea of darkness. When the wedge—
The peak of shadow skims the valley ledge,
The island locks its color up, leaves bare
Its beaches to the sea, the colorless air.
Of water running endlessly on its edge
Whose mountains shut at sunset like a plant
Against a sea of darkness. When the wedge—
The peak of shadow skims the valley ledge,
The island locks its color up, leaves bare
Its beaches to the sea, the colorless air.
And people in the cup of sea and sky
Among the painted island's blues and reds
See every night the wedge of shadow fly
Across their valleys, over all their heads
And shut their eyes, and hide themselves in beds;—
Meanwhile the sea spread level on the tide
Prowls in its surf. Lehua lived and died
Among the painted island's blues and reds
See every night the wedge of shadow fly
Across their valleys, over all their heads
And shut their eyes, and hide themselves in beds;—
Meanwhile the sea spread level on the tide
Prowls in its surf. Lehua lived and died
Under this quarrel, this twofold daily change . . .
Her men found graves along the China coast:
Eric the elder;—then the other strange
Eric, her son, who wanted to be lost.
Lehua knew too well which she loved most.
She ended like a barnacle fastened where
The harbor waters see-saw. It is there.—
Her men found graves along the China coast:
Eric the elder;—then the other strange
Eric, her son, who wanted to be lost.
Lehua knew too well which she loved most.
She ended like a barnacle fastened where
The harbor waters see-saw. It is there.—
The little shack the schooners anchored by . . .
They tried, the other day to raid the den,
They found a passive Buddha hung up high,
Eight grams of opium and some Chinamen
With one kanaka hag. They asked her when
She took to living there. She gave no answer.
—There was a woman once, a hula dancer
They tried, the other day to raid the den,
They found a passive Buddha hung up high,
Eight grams of opium and some Chinamen
With one kanaka hag. They asked her when
She took to living there. She gave no answer.
—There was a woman once, a hula dancer
