Tel Aviv—

Summertime 2025—

sun’s familiar warmth burns,

swapping Vitamin D

for the big C,

alluring tans

for rugged, calloused

handbag leather skin.

 

No standing without concrete burning feet—

No sitting without stinging blisters on the back.

Months pile,

inhaling deceased urban ash

blowing up the beach,

while sizzling masses

dehydrated, disoriented,

sway in a sweltering dance—

to yesteryear’s jovial summer beats.

 

Humidity hanging head-level heavy—

cementing a cycle of struggle, prayer and determination.

A struggle not to suffocate on the hot steam we breathe—

A prayer for a drop of relief from the dripping ACs—

A determination not to drown on the slow crawl to cooler days.