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Hina (Hawai'ian moon goddess)
The forest doves are quiet now;
Far down the hill, a dog barks in the darkness,
And the long dark forms of mountain-pigs
Pass through the tall Ti plants in the stillness.
She sings to me a siren's song
Far older than these wooded hills.
I step outside the isolation of my tent;
Enveloped in her translucent arms,
My senses are unbound.
The sun is harsh and hot, O Hina,
But you are peace.
John Bliven Morin