(for Donna and Eric and Dick)

Three floors up, from the open
window of our oceanside condo,
we four watched a wedding,

our bird’s eye view rendering
us invisible to those gathering,
sitting, waiting for the ceremony

to begin. We found ourselves
captivated by the best show
on island, not least by

the shirtless man sporting
a pareo and wielding a cleaver
to whack off ends of niu,

hefty coconuts into which he’d
carve a just-big-enough puka for
a straw, handing it to a goggle-eyed

guest. We watched the kahu
blow the ku before the parade
of groomsmen and bridesmaids—

a dozen of each?—streamed in
one after the other like nearshore
waves, loud enough to smother

most of the kahu’s words uniting
bride and groom who then walked
down the grassy aisle into their

married life. We could not take
our eyes off her gauzy train
billowing in the seaside breeze,

and later the photographer
urging the newlyweds out onto
smooth lava where—we could

see this coming—the incoming
tide baptized their nuptials,
blessing her ivory gown

and his sleek black suit. What
held us at the window, sent us to
the lanai to watch the goings-on,

we whose own weddings lay
decades behind us? What urged
us to lean over the railing

above them and holler,
“Congratulations!” which made
them look up and wave?

Too simple to call it nostalgia or
envy those who’ve only just begun,
the long-ago song rattling through

our collective memory. Perhaps
it was because we became inadvertent
witnesses to a sweet celebration—

along with the offering of nui,
the humble coconut that Hawaiians
call the beloved tree of life—

to the sustaining power of love.

•••

Pareo: a sarong made of a single straight piece
of printed cotton cloth, worn by Polynesians.

Niu: coconut

Kahu: a pastor or minister with a spiritual commitment
to nurturing and safeguarding what is under their care.

Ku: conch shell blown at traditional Hawaiian ceremonies

Puka: hole