I want to be on a private beach,

picking sand and shadows

out of my bellybutton, admiring the view

of a secluded castle on the hillside

and the dense wood

that nestles around it,

far from home

when the sunburn hits me,

when nations clash

over such stupidity

on the beach, as they play war games

with tin boats and daring rhetoric,

I want nothing more than to be sipping

a cold beer as my skin goes red

and peels,

getting sunburned in the Med

is far more appealing than

living with concrete,

living with the fear…

better go bow out as the sun sets in the East

and west,

how marvellous to not worry

about the sand blasting in my eyes.

 

Ian D. Hall 2017