Collision by Addie Sanft

Collision

Sea glass was once a window,
Once a bottle on a table,
Once something whole
That believed it would stay that way.

Then came the fall.
A bright, ringing break.
And the world called it ruined.

The ocean called it the beginning.

Tossed between tide and stone,
It learned the language of collision.
It spun in salt and surrender,
Edges knocked soft by repetition.

Humans are made this way too.

We shatter in loud, unexpected moments.
We hit the ground and think
This is the end of beauty.

But time is a patient tide.

It turns us over and over,
Presses us against resistance
Until the sharpness thins.

We grow cloudy where we were once clear.
Scars become satin.
Grief becomes a weight we can carry.

Sea glass does not return
To its original shape.
It becomes something rarer,
Found, not manufactured.

And when someone lifts it from the shore,
Holds it to the light,
It glows softly.

Proof that what was broken
Can be made gentle
Without losing its strength.

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Addie Sanft is a recent graduate of Wellesley High School, and is new to poetry. Drawing inspiration from personal experiences and the people around her, her writing is used to examine moments of transition, belonging, and self-discovery. She will be continuing her studies at University of Colorado, Boulder, where she hopes to continue her studies of English and writing.