Revere

The salt-ridden breeze

Slams itself

Against old buildings

Decorated with graffiti

 

Cigarette ash

Dances over cracked sidewalks

Where a young group has gathered

To play loud rap

From the speakers of an old car.

 

For some reason

I find myself standing here

At night; after the crowds have gone.

After parents have left

With their noisy kids

And all that remains

Are the young lovers

And trouble makers.

 

I gaze up at the brilliant moon

With the cold, littered sand

Sifting between my toes

And it all becomes clear

As though these shores of Boston

Can wipe away my regrets.

 

Author's Note

Revere is the name of this city, which is just a stone's throw North of Boston.

Reviews

[Rachel DeHart]

I don't know what to say in response to this piece, I adore it.. but I also know the feeling so well. Somehow the ocean can wash away almost anything.

Thank you so much for capturing it so beautifully.

[Pax Analog]

I love this!

"Salt-ridden breeze," "cigarette ash," "cold, littered sand" are like gritty markers to an exhilarating subtle naturalism, whereby the poet's voice is that of leaving past baggage behind and arriving at the ineffable off-hand beauty of NOW.

And I like the coinciding of an historically rich city name with the deeply simple savor of unencumbered life.

Excellent!