the good life

floating on the dock, hand trailing in the warm summer lake. the beat of waves against the posts.
the silence of a heartbeat
easiness of breath
this is what living is made for
a tap on the shoulder
light flooding in again
time and place again
you're sleeping at your desk again
dreaming at your desk again
drool drips off your thumb

A beach, a lake, a.... whatever. Somewhere not at work.