By the Sea

How beautiful it is by the sea, even though there is war in the air, even though there is always war in the air, which makes people live with a vengeance. Road fatalities exceed those lost in battle. Children run wild—soon enough they will sleep on stones in the desert. In the sky planes fly lower than you would think possible, low enough to wipe your plate clean. There’s an airport less than a mile from the promenade and the sea, the beautiful sea, duplicitous in nature, licking your lips, wrapping its salty arms around your throat.