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Martha Webb

Author

A History

The hawk cries in the bush beside you while you gather maile for your father's grave Something stirs in the stone you found long ago at Hapu'u It reaches me where I dream and pray at Keokea and I answer Then you are chest-deep in ginger, slashing thr [...]

Dance Piece/Kalaupapa

I found myself alone in a world without mirrors. I could see, myself, that my skin was rusting, that my body was falling from me while I still lived. Who gave me this ugliness? They were afraid, as if to see my sorrow were to touch it. If there was a [...]