Fathers and grandfathers

push toddlers back and forth

in swings made to hold them.

The men yawn, belch, fart,

and check their watches

every few minutes to see

if time has actually stopped.

The older kids run wild,

lost in perpetual motion

with war-hoop-like-howls

and squeals--of –delight

as they pursue pigeons

like starving hunters.

The kids cluster in groups,

chasing each other

for no apparent reason

other than pure enjoyment.

They fill their their shoes

with sand, howling with laughter

as they fling them down

a rumbling slippery slide

over and over again.

They don’t exchange names,

just anonymous playmates

on a summer afternoon.