Observations From a Beach Chair

Today, I watched boys climbing a log stuck vertically in the sand

And girls kicking at leaves just for the fun of it,

And oh, when did our youth slip through the backdoor unnoticed,

As smoothly as spring transitions to summer, as the hour hand moves positions on the clock.

Youth danced in the backyard as we dutifully did our homework,

Watched from the stars as we kept our heads down to the earth.

Youth pranced in the glistening of the sunlight across breaking waves,

As we swam to shore in search of something foreign, futuristic.

“I can’t wait to grow up”

But I should have waited longer than I did.

Why were we ever in such a rush to move from the everyday delights of childhood,

Of splashing in puddles in brightly colored boots,

To watching rain race down the window from inside, waiting for the downpour to pass,

Each second stretching on like eternity, each tick feeling like a letdown to our futures.

“Carpe Diem,” Keating urged, but why does it feel like it is too late?