It was very strange, the adult stroller
       with its large heavy wheels.

The young couple, tanned and beautiful
pushed it across the sand and into the water.
At meter depth, they helped their aged passenger
stand in the flowing surf.   He just stood there
as Adonis rolled the wheels back to shore.

As I jogged by, the scene suggested that
a homicide was about to take place.
I memorized the size and shape of the vehicle,                   
the features of the two, their clothing.
I would be a prepared witness. 

Great-uncle George surely had a fortune
and these rascals were about to hasten
their inheritance.  It would be an accident.
He could slip into the blue-green ocean,
float away, simple—so simple.

Or, maybe this was just the rehearsal,
and my being there would certainly
cause them worry.  Another time
with no one about would probably be better.
To do it now might be foolhardy.

I ran on, around the rocks, out of sight.
Might they just be a loving couple
helping Grampa enjoy his day
at the beach?  Perhaps a soothing flow
of saltwater aids his aching limbs?
.
We are going home tomorrow.
I will have to choose the ending.

                                    Loraine Brink