Sometimes repetitive activity frees the mind to wander. Sometimes it wanders into poetry.
Unmooring
he has become dislodged
in time, untethered from the moment
the lens of presence that makes life
seem linear
his anchor has slipped
its seabed niche and scrapes
bottom as he drifts, snagging on rocks
and old wrecks
he circles the sea of days on winds
and currents he cannot see, greeting each
familiar island as delightful
new discovery
and when night falls he settles,
content and becalmed, into the waves’ wide
troughs and the somnolent cadence
of their rolling
The Daily Compost 
I really enjoyed reading this one, I’ve just started following your blog and I came back to this piece a couple of times. There’s a lot of nice phrasing here and I thought the final two lines had a particularly nice cadence of their own.
I was also impressed by how you managed to make the imagery and tone of each stanza reflective of mood. The sense of being buffeted by external forces in stanza two is sharply contrasted by the more accepting nature of stanzas three and four.
I look forward to reading more of your work.
I’m so pleased that you enjoyed the poem and that some of the things I tried to do with it worked. Thank you for reading and for your thoughtful comments!