The second day of heavy vog
Makes me contemplate the quality of living.
Gorgeously sunny days are marred by thick air and a loss of horizons
So it suffocates with a reddish hue and makes me think the world is on fire.
Helicopters beat the ground they fly so low.
Civil Defense flyovers, looky-lou VIPs and tourists have the route on repeat.
My daughter yells for silence when the lava eruption updates
Break the monotony of songs and ads on the radio.
She’s six. All she really understands is she moved schools because of the lava.
My throat burns with heavy metal particulates and
My eyes well up with thoughts of my old routine that included Pahoa.
The best part of living on an island is the expansiveness of the ocean
But this gray haze cuts the world off at the next line of trees.
This oceanless island is laid heavy with tulle, the same stuff of childhood dresses,
Only this time, it doesn’t add beauty to the overall picture,
Just opaque color and itch.
Some small part of me is thankful for the vog because it brings the lava to everyone’s attention.
Most other days, only the residents of Puna think about it
Because they’ll be the only ones affected.
My, my, what a difference twenty miles makes.
Cheap land and an edge of the world atmosphere brought people here,
Ironically, those may be the same things that start an exodus
When the lava crosses the only civilized highway.
Pele created these Hawaiian Islands,
She’s played in Puna for the last thirty years and
It’s clear she’s not done yet.
The question of where she’ll go next is on every Punatic’s mind,
Yet after all the stops and starts since she began her trek toward Pahoa on June 27, 2014,
An acceptance has settled.
Many have left already, those staying will stay because they have to,
And those caught in between are waiting…
Hoping for the fits of a native Hawaiian goddess to end.
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