The appeal of the beach is different
For everyone who visits.
Some venture deep into the water,
Their heads bobbing above and below the surface
Of the bittersweet saltwater.
Perhaps they crave adventure,
Letting the waves envelope their bodies,
Seeking a refuge from the prickly heat.
Perhaps they fear the danger
Of sickly rays of sun
On their children’s delicate,
Porcelain skin,
Pulling them deeper into the water
By the strings of their life jackets.
Some remain at the shore,
Looking off into the horizon
But not yearning for it.
Perhaps they are holding the little
Sweaty hands
Of children who squeal
Whenever a wave rushes over their feet.
Perhaps they are women
Cringing as waves splash onto their legs,
Jumping up in alarm,
Avoiding the saltwater
For fear that it will fade their
Designer swimwear,
Purchased just for this trip.
Man is said to be able to be divided
Into two distinct groups:
Glass half empty
And glass half full.
But when you’re the one standing
Inside the glass,
Filled to the halfway mark with saltwater,
And to the top with the warmth of the sun,
How can anyone tell you
You’re an optimist if you prefer the water,
Or you’re a pessimist if you prefer the sun?