top of page

From her sister, Mililani Trask, the final poem of Haunani-Kay Trask's book,

Night is a Sharkskin Drum. 

"Into our seaweed

clouds and saltwarm


Into our windswept

ʻehu kai, burnt

sands gleaming.

Into our sanctuaries

of hushed bamboo

awash in amber.

Into the passion

of our parted Koʻolau

luminous vulva.

Into Kāneʻs pendulous

breadfruit, resinous

with semen.

Into our wetlands

of Heʻeia

bubbling black mud.

Into our spangled

blue-leaf taro,

flooded with wai.

Into Waiāhole,

chattering with rains

and silvered fish.

Into our shallows

of Kualoa

translucent Akua.

Into the hum of

reef-ringed Kaʻaʻawa

pungent with limu.

Into our corals of

far Kahana, sea-cave

of Hina.

into our chambered

springs of Punaluʻu

ginger misting.

Into the songs of

lost Lāʻie, cool

light haunting.

Into murmuring


plumed sands chanting.

Into the waʻa of

Kanaloa, voyaging

moana nui.

Into our sovereign suns

drunk on the mana

of Hawaiʻi."




bottom of page