ELEGY Poem: Nahant, Massachusetts, by Matt Leistra

Ice froze over top of the sand. It swirled
in white waves hard like tile under my feet.
With each step, liquid trapped
by the surface shot out in all directions.
I looked up and stepped over a line of snow
running across the beach. The drift
was crystalline so my foot would crunch
through without resistance if I lowered it.
Water lapped at the shore, tickling
small stones dyed dark gray. Wind whipped
at my face and snuck under my collar.
“Hello Mom,” I said. “It’s been too long.”
The waves whispered back at me
in bubbles of white froth running
up the shore. They spilled over my shoes,
soaking through the hole in the
left heel I always forgot.

Author: poetryfest

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