The two cabins on the beach front sat passive resigned
Waiting for retired couples to fill them
Their whispers and murmurs almost audible
over the crashing waves
They sit like tired toddlers
Slowly nodding to each other
beige faces window eyes unwinkable
Squatting there near the sand
As if freshly placed within the play pen
But the two children are still
Rubbing eyes and waking
Unworried and unaware of the world
Awaiting human hosts to give them real souls
To routine them into magical existence
walls bulge slightly outward
healthy mother's milk
An old couple is taken for the tour
they go through each room
and feel slightly more glum
They walk out wondering why anyone would live in either
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