Unwind,Unkind

Southern sunsets left behind him so unkind Wind of meek chimes wandering way up high Trembling, soothing ground of sun-baked seashore line Dust of white binds blindly to the tides Shall he take a walk to distant island heights Chasing down a kite high, bathing in sunshine Dots of lime it prints bright, could be worth a dime Alongside a path of flowers, he just might.