The Hawaiian Shirt

I noticed a big man snoozing in a chair wearing the shirt. The ocean was booming nearby. Short hop from there in my mind. Just had to be willing to wake up at 2 am to write it down.

In the old days "Hold Fast" written across the knuckles indicated a sailor. Having it on each finger would give them the grip they needed to work the ship's lines and stay alive in the rigging.

                       The Hawaiian Shirt

                Hibiscus and bent bamboo,
                  in red and turquoise blue
                        lay upon the shirt.
                     Across his shoulders,
            peeking below a line of clouds,
                   the setting sun’s rays
                          ended abruptly
                      at his short sleeves
             clashing with a tattoo which
                   snaked down his arm.

                      Only linen or silk,
                   or some composition, 
                  could bear the weight
               of such color and texture.

                    A storm approached
                   across the shirt front.
          A palm tree leans precariously,
        while a four inch tsunami rolls in,
                 tossing flotsam across
                     the cargo pockets.
                     The booming surf
                   drowned his snores.
              Only one last button holds 
      against the heaving swell beneath.

                      In late afternoon                 
                 the sun crept around
           the large umbrella overhead
           illuminating a tiny one below,
                  cradled in the glass,
           clutched in his sleeping grip.
        The tattoos across his knuckles
              remained vigilant and still
                hold fast onto Margarita.

                      San Patricio-1/23