Oceanside Beach, California, Summer 2005
Pink and yellow umbrellas
Frost the foggy sand.
Surfers in wetsuits
Bob like apples
In a greenish-gray stew.
Sails fatten with wind.
Delicious bikinis patrol the strand.
The Beach Boys croon from a bungalow.
There are two girls for every boy,
A woman for every man.
Toddlers toy with plastic shovels
While margaritas are sipped
From cans. The celebration goes on for miles.
The marine layer gets assaulted
By the noonish sun—
Waves will turn green
In less than an hour.
When I was younger
The beach seemed much warmer.
Have you seen my wife?
Legs churning north in aqua shorts.
Surging foam picks up clumps of kelp,
Tumbleweeds them over the sand.
Checkered black and yellow flags
Whisper currents and tragic undertows.
Sun ignites our faces—
Like drunks at a bar ready to close.