Beach musings

I fasted through the gray, ominous clouds. I waited with my stomach for a time to come out again.
We were caught in all the I-don't-knows. Maced an entire race, while old folks in bright clothes stroll. They walk this same beach walk everyday. Young love swims int he early tides. A race to wash their feet in the sand. But it's gotta be something more. A reminder we've not gone too far. We can still live together. (I hope I haven't gone too far. I hope we can still live together.) The metal clanks away their hopeful, youthful dreams. Intriguing like a uniformed Asian girl hiding under a palm tree to sneak a smoke. Everyone wishing they'd spent more of their childhood in a tent, listening to flamenco, swimming in the dark, forgotten night, riding bicycles down unsafe clumps of construction, running out of stores with stolen baseball cards and eating the stiff gum as they imagine a big-leaguer would, deciphering songs as if they were their own, holding their breathe in hopes of getting older.