Annie Cody Holdren
On a Second Look
Perched on black basalt above the ocean, our short-term rental gave my mother access to her past. She wanted to revisit the island where she’d gone to school. She was a blue-eyed and blonde haole, daughter of a navy admiral.
yellow hibiscus
She taught my sister and me to string leis with plumeria blossoms. I hadn’t known that plumeria wasn’t a native Hawaiian plant.
back and forth in the waves
Most days, I’d swim off the rocks with a plastic mask and snorkel. Face submerged, I learned to blow forcefully through the tube whenever saltwater poured in.
oh! butterfly fish
My little brother would take a path to the seawall at the back of our bay. There he’d join the old men who lined up with their fishing poles every morning and evening.
the similarities
Now I’ve been invited to join a friend at her timeshare. I don’t recognize where I am until I walk down a paved road and reach the seawall. Tour operators’ shops do business next to a large parking lot.
between nostalgia and regret
About the Author
Annie Cody Holdren’s professional career has centered on interpreting and writing about archaeology and natural history. Her poems have been published in Catamaran, Nostos, Frogpond, Canary, Kerning, and other literary magazines and poetry anthologies.