The sun corrects me: time is moving on;
I cannot pause and daydream in palm’s shade;
I’ll have to crab to stay beneath the fronds
and creep the hours across the beach that way.
The afternoon is fraught with moving cares;
the contemplation that I sought has cost.
No Buddha state of thought is here but stares
of those who think I’m odd and maybe lost.
The strap of my bikini irritates;
I do not know how long I’ll hold the pose,
especially since the sun is moving still
and sweat is trickling down my pretty nose
In spite of this, I’ll treasure the last laugh:
they envy me who see the photograph.