Stuck Shores

Four kilometers to the sea.

Three hours in the machine.

The child asks are we there.

We are always almost there.

That is the human condition,

Lukas.

We are all going to the same place.

Slowly.

Slowly.

We are all going to the same place.

The man in the next car

eats an egg.

I have watched him peel it

for eleven minutes. It is the most honest thing I have seen

all year.

We are all going to the same place.

Slowly.

Slowly. (slowly)

And when the water finally comes into view — blue,

unbothered, older than the traffic

— every single one of us

forgives the road.

Every single one.