Floppy Hats

Everyone wore red.
The palm tree crew.
Left stacking and restacking.
Staying busy.
Those per hour ethics.
Working hard, drinking water.
Hydrate or dydrate.

All the while, lounging in the sand.
Where the ocean made the emerald coast.
Where readers take swims.
Then turn page after page.
In floppy hats.
The book still has a place.
With the dreamers.
Still hoping.
Escaping.
Gone.

Then a whiff, a cool whiff in the heat.
Shelter is being erected everywhere.
Shade, the commodity.
Like clipping palms, leave the tops.
Haul off the old.

The young matter the most.
Longer futures of going.
What was said was going to be said.
Was said.

That's what I said.