Holidays
We leave up Diwali lights
Through December twenty-fifth
Then it’s Christmas when they shine
All reds and greens and blues and pinks--
They don’t care.
They glow all the same.
And it makes sense,
Their easy transition
That isn’t much of a change.
When I was younger
I used to say it was just
Two holidays, twice the presents.
And that’s all it means.
Like Diwali sparklers in the cold,
Same ones we’d use for the Fourth of July.
It’s less of a mix and more of a
Side-by-side, because the lights still glow
If we’re Hindu or Christian
And they are many things all at once
And we are many things
All at once.
Boardwalk
Maybe there’s a girl crying on the boardwalk.
Maybe it’s because she
Dropped something, a toy
Slipped between cracks or she
Tripped on a piece of wood
Left lying on the ground
By some careless hand.
Something trivial. Something
For her mother to sigh
And to wipe her tears with
One tired hand.
And maybe there’s a girl on the boardwalk.
Maybe she’s not crying, maybe
At fourteen years old she’s above that.
Maybe if she was, it would be because she
Dropped something, a friend
Slipped between cracks or she
Tripped on an early test
Left lying by some careless hand.
Something trivial, something
For her friend to sigh
And chatter sympathy with her
Blue-braces mouth.
And maybe there’s a girl on the boardwalk.
Maybe she’s not crying, but her
Mascara is smudged black beneath her eyes.
Maybe it’s because she
Dropped something, a job
Slipped between cracks or she
Tripped on an unpaid fee
Left lying by some careless hand.
Something trivial, something
For her girlfriend to sigh
Say we’ll be alright say it
Like she knows it’s true.
And maybe there’s a girl on the boardwalk.
Maybe she’s not crying, but her
Face is red with anger.
Maybe it’s because she
Dropped something, words
She’ll never take back or she
Tripped on a backwards thought
Left lying by some careless hand.
Something trivial—no, something
For herself to sigh
Say this better change to her
Reflection’s rippled smile.
And maybe there’s a girl on the boardwalk.
And maybe she’s crying, but it’s
Joy running down her face.
Maybe it’s because she
Found something, hope
Slipped between cracks or she
Tripped on a sunlit smile
Left lying by some careless hand.
Something trivial--no, something
For herself to smile
Say this never change to her
Wife’s beaming eyes.
Maybe there’s a girl on the boardwalk.
Maybe she’s crying, cause she’s
Sixty-five, full of memory.
Maybe it’s because she
Dropped something, another self
Slipped between cracks or she
Tripped on another day
Left lying by some careless hand.
Something trivial—no, something
For her to look around
Think of all she’s been and
All she’ll still be.
About the author: Nina Ballerstedt is a freshman in high school from Georgia. She loves writing poetry and short stories, and plays volleyball for her high school. This is her first publication.
