Coming up for air in Playa Honda

Playa Honda, mid afternoon, carrying a beach-bag

the sun full with a golden haze of sand blowing sideways

- all morning I've walked dogs, carried cases and crates  
the dusty sweat has soaked my grimy, sticky clothes so

shedding them now, the crystal clear water is inviting

with open arms, I plunge into the sea, first swimming

as the waves set the pace on a diagonal drift to the south -

then floating as the nearby planes, laden with tourists 

takeoff and land in steady succession, whilst over to the left

the Gran Hotel in Arrecife tells me exactly where I am

these cool Atlantic ripples trace my skin and the

circling cyclones of cooler currents travel over my flesh

soothing, lulling, quelling - my breath slowing down

the lightness of the aqua-blue guarantees my sanctuary 

as golden rays horizontally shine on the tiny cloud dogs

under the vast, brilliant African sky, breathing deeply

- as if I've been submerged and I'm coming up for air

I swim and float, growing small, smaller and smaller still

until I am finally invisible - grateful and free again

as the cries of the circling gull echo hauntingly above