Hakamairi
I have always been haunted
by the idea of ghosts.
Claimed I saw them
and knew them
and spoke to them like old friends.
My great-grandfather passed first,
soon after I turned four.
To express my grief,
I wrote a gauche song
about how much I loved
his beaten-up La-Z-Boy,
its deep-blue upholstery
riddled with cigarette burns.
My grandmother passed
when I was well into my twenties.
She loved me in a way
I struggled to understand:
through jams and jellies
and rolls of makizushi
with shiitake mushrooms
I said looked like slugs.
I spoke at her funeral,
visited her resting place,
and so often wonder
if it is a crime
to feel closer to her now
than I did when I could touch her.
The others:
the mother
of an old best friend I failed,
her sweet face
and light laugh
like soft purin;
the child of my mother’s friend
whose soul mirrored mine,
our demons raising
dark and shadowy hands
and wondering if the other
might be waving back;
the classmate who taught me
about Britney Spears
and how fun it could be
to stray from the rules,
his sharp tongue
and bright eyes
returning only in dreams;
the bus driver who showed me
the meaning of aloha,
his decline so sudden,
I couldn’t show him my stories
where he’s laughing
and smiling
and throwing up a shaka,
words typed up in silence
and published too late.
I often wonder
if I write for the living
or if I write only
for those I have lost.
If this is my way
of pretending they’re here.
Of hoping they know
what I could not say.
I long for the day
we can all meet again,
lounging together
in old blue recliners,
surrounded by the smell
of sushi rice and joy.
We dance to Britney,
our footsteps silent on hallowed ground,
and wait for the Lord
to take us all home.
About the Author: Born and raised in Hawaiʻi, Kelly Murashige is the author of the award-winning YA novels THE LOST SOULS OF BENZAITEN and THE YOMIGAERI TUNNEL, as well as the upcoming adult novel MILKIVERSE (2027). Her work has been nominated for Best Small Fictions and Best of the Net. Though she can be shy, she loves obsessing over books, video games, and strange animals.
Image Credit: Tani Bun’ichi Ghost and Oil Lamp (1810) Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 