Okanagan Suntan 

by denny bastian Apr/2012

Face down in the sand on coloured beach towel.
Summer's scorching sun sears fair skinned back.
Toes dug in the blazing sand, awakes with a howl
from the raw burning skin on now lobster red calf.

Springing to feet, sand too hot upon arch.
Running on heels like a fool to water’s brim
grateful feet on wet sand from lake wave’s march,
‘tween welcoming toes. A person dives in.

While young girls model the latest swimsuit
sit cross-legged in shade; so alluring and sweet,
avoiding the lake lest their clothing might ruin.
They chatter about cute boys they want to meet.

Bare chest young boys flexing while tossing a ball
sneak peeks at the girls who are admiring their skills.
The wayward throws planned, no accident at all
in hopes the boy meets the girl for new summer thrills.

Little girls build sand castles with bright plastic pail
so communally made. A twig crowns atop for a flag.
A naughty brother’s purposeful stomp makes it fail
as Mother lifts her shades and looks up over her mag.

“Leave the girls alone,” she calls out with mum’s duty
and goes back to her reading, sunglasses returned,
while brother runs off with a flag as his booty.
The young girls rebuild with lessons they’ve learned.

Alas, the dark cumulous clouds moving up from the south
cover the sun for long stretches of time as windswept waves
smack on the sand, yet discouraging no one to hurry about
and leave the beach, for these are the sun tanning days.