I The scorching noonday settles down, The scent of Coppertone on naked backs. At the beach. The lukewarm beer and paper sacks Of gritty snacks Packed early when the day began Are now declined by sunburnt throngs Who toss the refuse toward the can But miss, Delighting eager gulls that plunge Headlong To dive in screeching glee for treats Not caring that the eats Are full of grunge. They feast in bliss On rye and Swiss. Soon, hungry, blistered bathers stiffly stand Now mindful of the quantity of sand Inside their shorts and thongs.
And then the stiff walk to the pier To find a shower and cold beer.