A coral reef paves the path,

Tropical fish darting in and out

Of holes, sanctuary from hungry Aku

Whose presence provokes fishermen

To cast their lines barefoot from rocks

That extending from white sand beaches

With thick soles, heavy souls

That long for older days rich

In tradition. Past forgotten,

Sovereignty lost with the few that knew

The old ways. Mokili’i they called it,

Chinaman’s hat. Hallowed rock walls held

Fish for food, gated by bamboo fences.

The sleeping chinaman still lies under

Water, ask him his story.

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