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Nye Beach

Posted on 01.20.21 by Alison Cantrell

Poetry by Christine Fenicottero

Kite strife and sun cut
through the hazy marine cloak.
You balanced a frail arm on mine
to roll up your pant legs.
Because I am my mother’s daughter
my hair was fine white gossamer thickened
by wind and sand as we laughed.

We laughed, but I wondered.
How your breath was lost so soon,
when we walked from car to tide?
If you’d been kissed with sand
on lips that hid an imperfect smile?
If you’d ever shivered as
a rough hand grazed your scapula?
And how could anyone ever know these secrets
if you died alone surrounded
only by these piles of memory?

We laughed and the Pacific froze
our feet to blurry alabaster,
while the man who would soon leave me
(because I am my mother’s daughter)
dangled our shoes from arms
that proved too short to reach his desires
on the shore.


Christine Fenicottero is a registered nurse who moonlights as a poet. Her love of poetry was sparked in grade school after being tasked to write a limerick. Though the horse in the limerick never found his shoes, Christine found the allure of rhythm and meter irresistible. Her poetry often explores the female experience of aging, loss, and spirituality.

Christine was born and raised in Boise, Idaho. She is the mother of one daughter. Christine currently lives and works in Roseburg, Oregon, where she enjoys exploring the Umpqua Valley’s natural beauty.

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