Turning my lounge chair around
placing my back to the lowering sun
the shadow
long and dark
stretches out on the warm tiles in front of me
as I look over the quiet simmer of water in the pool
the line of lounge chairs
at attention.
In this late afternoon hour
the old sunbathers
have wrapped towels
like capes
over their curved freckled shoulders,
slipped on their sandals
and left for early bird dinners
and I am alone
with the salamanders
that wait for now
to come up from the cracks
and face the last warmth of the sun.
These tiny dinosaurs
holding themselves up with
frog-like feet
ponder ancient ancestors
who lived
long before old people
retreated to Florida.
So much in common,
those who sit on these chairs
and those that lurk underneath,
both from a time
and a place
where they were mightier,
now trailing lengthy shadows
behind them.
