The Beach, No. 2

I sit alone and read,
watching Mexican families playing together
with toddlers the color of a cedar chest,
Yankee tourists who'll be groaning
from the burn tonight, making a Walgreens
run for aloe, lidocaine, anything.
Teens and tweens and twenty-somethings
stroll past, bellies flat as the boardwalk
they traversed to reach the sand. Bikinis
no bigger than my paperback
can't hide delicate scroll hearts and tattoos
on breasts and at the small of
flawless backs. I get up and walk,
covetting the small and single-digit-sized shapes of
debutantes showing off to the tune of giggles and gossip.
They are Legion.
I envision myself stopping a gaggle of them,
sunburned cheeks, chowing down
on chips, daintily sipping Cokes -
not even Diet! "Enjoy it while you can,"
I say, "because in 15 years, less,
your metabolism will turn on you like a shark on bait fish.
Those babies you want so badly
will stretch your skin, morphing your
tattoo into something truly unique.
The breasts they nurse--well, pec exercises will
help. Start now. Today.
And for God's sake, use sunscreen!
This is Florida! Enjoy today, because tomorrow
you join the rest of us
watching slimmer, younger bodies
stroll past, boys drooling after,
as we lift our eyes to the glaring blue sky,
thanking God we're no longer so young
with most of life ahead,
without the wisdom from years lived
to guide us. No awareness of what's true
or important."  How easy it is to judge.
Those girls may well be wiser than me
already. Maybe I'll just
go back and read some more
because this is too much thinking for
a day at the beach. A man stops me.
Maybe 25, 30, dark hair, nice smile.
"Is this a shark's tooth?"
He's excited, just looking down at
shells and there it was, so surprised he stopped
a stranger old enough to be his mother,
to get confirmation.
"I think it is! Good eyes," I gush, and walk
away uplifted. When did I become an expert
on shark's teeth? But he took my
word as gospel, because it agreed
with what he hoped was true.
He wouldn't have stopped me on a street,
or hallway, or in a store.
But we're practically naked on the beach,
all of us. It's simpler here to be human.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012