Gregory E. Bruno

To HRS

I thought a lot about you in Waikiki,
In the pause after the Exam
During the summer of Wildfires.
The Ilikai had a 1965
Aerial shot facing Diamond Head,
Sprouting Fresh Waters,
Another spring, of course, you sang.

Sunk in the sand, stuck between the pale
Blue surf and the Pink Palace of the Pacific,
I wanted to ask you:
How you got that vog cough,
Cause I ain’t getting in a helicopter
Over that volcano; again,
How you knew all the good places;
Tell you how Warren’s Understanding Poetry
Was actually a treatise on drafting contracts;
Say thanks since you taught me
Damn near everything;
But, mostly, tell you about
How I would have frozen time
Chasing Etta down the beach
At sunset in Hanalie Bay, and how
Serious people are hard to find.