Beach Days

The Boy in the Red Suit

Gaze ahead at tumbling waves
Breaking on his slender legs.
Knee deep, though never deeper
Soft sand shifting, underfoot.

Arms astride barely moving
Passive eyes always scanning
Not a boy, eighteen twenty
Mother near, old for children.

Gone now these last few summers
Time past left me to wonder
Did he see what I cannot,
What is he watching now?