Rum kissed, they lie in next door loungers.
The sun is less harsh now,
Spreading twinkling light on the blue.
After twenty five years they know how the other works.
He’s playing his Irish rebel songs.
She’s slightly awkward about annoying other people.
And the daily stresses and annoyances slide away with the burn of the rum on their throats
They are catching up. They find they are still connected. They are both ok with this.
He silently tops up her glass.
She smiles her thanks, returns to her book.