LUNCH AT CRESCENT
I turn our sports car to the sea at Crescent Beach.
Scattered clouds can’t hide the springtime sun.
Relaxed observers, we’ve come for lunch in our two-seater
With sandwiches from Beast and Brine.
We’re looking toward Vancouver and the tide is out.
Curiously, not everyone notices or cares.
A sporty Honda pulls in beside us with two young people
who stay for fifteen minutes, each silently scrolling a cellphone.
On our other side rap music beats and lyrics sound
as two young happy men keep a ball in the air,
their girlfriends soundly asleep in their car.
For them the breeze, the waves, the gulls have no effect.
Across the mud with two dogs to the distant water a woman walks
while throwing a ball the younger animal eagerly chases.
The older mate walks slowly, past his time for chasing
Staying close to his master from whom he welcomes a pat.
Two trucks arrive and out climb eight people speaking Filipino.
Soon two of them carry a boat motor the long walk to the water.
Four others manhandle a Zodiac loaded with crab traps to the motormen.
Then with motor attached two men in the boat sail to deep water.
With lunch over, we decide to walk on Blackie Spit.
Clamshells lie white and opened days ago by hungry birds.
Tidewater is coming in, still cold, yet one man wades knee deep.
Crescent Beach is pleasurable for everybody’s reasons.
© Ron Unruh, March 2019
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