The sun hangs on
just above the water
With romantic feelings
the old people look

at us on the rocks
where we read to each other
They don't see the ants
only our young bodies
and in mind, they add the lizards

A foghorn sounds at sea
but there is nothing to see
until suddenly around us
the bathers on the concrete blocks
become who they seemed to be:

ghosts cherishing themselves
in the warmth on their skin
They turn around and wait
sleeping for the sun