Beach Bar-B-Q when middle aged.

We met at four o'clock

Pegged out the wind break

Circled the garden chairs

Around the table with its

Box of wine and lemonade

Waiting for the fire to die back.

Pork and onion skewers,

Organic burgers, sausages

All carefully cooked

With not a ritual offering in sight.

We sit in accustomed places

Passing our usual remarks

Catching up on casual news

Of children and grand-children far away.

Some late arrivals cause a minor stir

But once they are seated

Calm returns once more.

And before twilight

Two by two they leave

Until only five of us remain

To clear away the plates

Pack up the wind break

Put away the chairs.

Brian Hick 20.7.09

©copyright Sally Hick 16.7.22