Strolling through the palms and pines
on a path of stony sand,
chiseled bodies splash in the surf,
nearly naked, getting tanned.
Pockets of shaded nooks and crannies
offer refuge from the sun,
hiding the shy, white, chubby folk
vicariously having fun.
They’ve come with bags and coolers
to snack away the day,
a bittersweet mix of envy, regret,
as gods and goddesses play.
With my shirt still on, I stop awhile
to gaze bathers east to west;
then return again to my shady spot
to feast just like the rest.