Down the Shore
Every summer when our un-airconditioned house
grew too hot to bear, when we stuck to the sofa’s
plastic cover and wanted to avoid the city pool
packed with adolescents acting stupid on the diving
board, we headed down the shore to dawdle
on the Boardwalk, play Pachuco, eat fish and chips
and hotdogs on a stick. We’d lie prone on sand
studded with used hypodermics and plastic waste,
and watch the white horse prodded up the rump
jump off Steel Pier into gray waves. Sometimes
we’d pile into a wicker rolling car and pedal to
the Planters Peanut Stand, grab a bag of freshly
roasted nuts. Evenings, we’d watch the phosphorescent
waves roll in, then catch a tiny purple jitney to the
boarding house, windows wide open to the ocean breeze.
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Robbi Nester is the author of four books of poetry and editor of three anthologies. She is a retired college educator and elected member of the Academy of American Poets. Her website is at RobbiNester.net
