The mindless shouts and yells of adolescent boys
rang out in late afternoon sunshine,
around the motel swimming pool.
Bathed in late afternoon sunshine they played their teenage games,
shouting in unison.
Loud voices now dropped, from post pubescence.
Shrieking their voices with childlike glee, with only those games that groups of young boys can conjure.
Splashing, grunting, with pleasures known to them alone.
Their pale white bodies, spider silhouettes, against the pseudo brick façade of the motel, bedecked with bright blue sunbrellas.
Reminiscent of seaside grandeur.
The boys larked. Like many before them, generations of similar encounters. Oblivious to their parodies. A couple of girls watched from the safety of the adjoining space.
The sun swiftly dropped in the late afternoon, cutting short their revelry.
Towels draped in postures of Arabs in the desert, they fled the scene.
The gulls swept by overhead, looking for scraps not found.