I Came To Find Beauty

This is the kind of place where people wear sensible shoes
I watch their feet. Up. Down. Painted. Clean. Dirty.
Usually I see faces, but today feet.
I look over a bit too long at the boy two stalls over.
I sure wouldn't mind if he came over, if you know what I mean.
The ocean breeze might just push him this way.
Does anyone ever think the same thing about me?
I wonder.
It's funny how our bodies mean so much to us when we are young.
The strength and perseverance of my own muscles continually amazes me.
The old lady buying cheese from me has hump so big on her back,
it looks like a cat crawled up her shirt and is curled up,
asleep below her shoulders.
God, our tall, lean, curly-haired children would be beautiful.
I'm still eyeing that boy.
She said we all come to this island to find beauty.
Maybe she's right.
I wander.