Minding Our Business
We were staring at the burning embers,
Rita, Veronica, Septimus, Mala, Edy
And I. Everyone else had drifted
Away, further down the beach.
Some old-timers, gifted
Beyond their years, had retired
For the night. It was very quiet,
Just the crackle of the fire,
A few insects buzzing around
Our ears, the waves washing
Nearly to the ground
Where we stood. At first
All we heard was a low rumble,
And we thought at worst
This might be a few boys
From town looking for some fun.
It was one of their joys
In life, to park their cars
On the hill, shout obscenities
And drop buckets of slop
Down on top of our heads.
But then we heard the sound of a gun,
And everyone got up out of their beds,
And we packed our things and we fled.