Lost in an island breeze

Staring out and ahead
In a haze
Warm, as the air is heavy, and slow
Having shed the shackles
Which normally oblige
The laws and customs
Of ‘normal’ life
Now free to wander behind a mind
Set adrift

How wonderfully liberating it can be
To rest laboring eyes
Upon a cyan sea
Without restraint
Agenda, or expectation

Thinking back to parts of life
set aside
or drifting forward to steps yet taken
Brought back intermittently by the burn of the sun
Or the slight changes in the breeze

Floating just over bare skin.