Peter Lewis Holmes Poet Free verse

The Beach Firing Squad

And the old women trundle out along the beach, 
their snacks and drinks for sale, swinging like rifles
from their sore, wooden shoulders;

and others;  younger and pretty, do the same,
eager to learn… to  make a little money

and they joke when they see me watching ;
and stealing a smile, they throw me a potent
warning, saying, ”no money, no honey,”
and gently swing their brown hips away;

and the old women, lining up firing squad like, 
aim their high-caliber disapproval; winging 
my bruised ego:

so, hurt;  I retreat to the bar, and tell my friends
how crazy  women are;  and they feign sympathy, 
knowing I ‘m a wounded old fool.

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