The damp surfboards are being stacked as the evening draws
A lad wearing a red shirt and black shorts is securing them for the night
In the distance the jetty is still bathed in sunshine and holidaymakers
Are exploring its sea length with a great interest
There is something languid about this theatre
Nobody is rushing about and even the gulls seem lazy
In an hour it will be dark tides will come and go
And only the quiet streetlights will witness
The silent secrets of the closing night