Hourglass Honesty

What happened to simple seashores?

Consider…
the long stretch of beach,
a mix of coconut aromas of sunscreen,
mossy and salty tartness of the dock,
sail boat and dingy harbor dancing with the tide,
parents wrestling squealing kids on the sand,
packs of bikers ringing their bells in code,
seagulls squawking over sunbather’s throwaways,
swings squeaking from the nearby playground,
dogs barking for a Frisbee on the grass near the bandstand.

Escapees make their way to the yacht club,
the bike shop,
the trendiest bar,
while sun worshipers lap their ice cream cones,
slurp iced coffees.

Summer hubbub.

A pause to check the senses,
one stops to think.

Upon reaching a certain age,
do the eyes, ears, smell, taste and touch
perceive such a big swath of open beach
as happiness abounding,
or merely life chasing time backwards,

Fearing the hourglass only knows gravity?