Elizabeth Chapman

September 10, 2014

“The Day Is the Island” by Elizabeth ChapmanPosted by

Elizabeth Chapman

THE DAY IS THE ISLAND

and the island a man who loves you
hearing the ubiquitous chickens of Kauai
uncaged since Iniki wrenched them free
the rooster will begin at dawn

who loves you
setting a green chair under the ironwood tree
and drinking coffee there
the campfires have gone out

and the tide going out too he loves you
while you wait in the coconut wind for dawn
to complicate things

—from Rattle #43, Spring 2014
Tribute to Love Poems

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Elizabeth Chapman: “‘Writing this on the train, I missed my stop’ was the title for the first draft of this poem, because that’s exactly what happened: A tropical breeze must have whisked me away from the Caltrain car I was riding back home from San Francisco. When I looked up from my notebook, the buildings of downtown Palo Alto were vanishing before my eyes. Leapt up, ran downstairs, and got off at the next stop, praying, as I dashed across the tracks, not to be caught and cited on the next northbound train for using an invalid ticket. All was well. Mahalo.”

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June 23, 2011

“Stella” by Elizabeth ChapmanPosted by

Elizabeth Chapman

STELLA

for my daughter’s daughter

We’re on a far shore
near the manta ray’s
rock where she folds
and unfolds herself
The stars burst forth
Before the bright hotel
was built the Southern Cross
glowed visible

April in three weeks
you’ll more or less swim
yourself out from the darkness
that still flecks the iris
of your eyes like black salt
from Molokai

The astronomer
loops the naked Pleiades
and through his lens
we can glimpse hidden
as you are still
hidden the cloud
of your bright burning

If I knew how to paint
a guardian spirit
I’d brush an ama kua
right on your crib
A honu in Pacific green
who would hear
every sob and quirk of you

There’s a gate at home
that will not close
missing a latch
I’ve left it open
Some day when you come
seeking riding through
the miles of night
holding onto Leo’s
generous mane
I will wait for you
Stella by starlight

—from Rattle #34, Winter 2010
Tribute to Mental Health Workers

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Elizabeth Chapman: “I like to think that three elements conspired—literally ‘breathed together’—to bring about my poem, ‘Stella.’ Some planned, some serendipitous: a trip in March to the Kona Coast of Hawaii’s Big Island, an evening of stargazing there on the beach, and a birth. At the time, I knew a grandchild was expected, a baby girl, but did not know, until she was born some two weeks later, her name, which of course means ‘star.’ How could I not write this poem?”

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