the distant shore

the fast day
swallows you whole.
into the whirlpool
of hours.
hardly a moment
to ponder or stare
into your navel.
just the labor of your job.
which is a good thing.
no mirror to look
into. no guilt
or sorrow, no
remorse, no regret.
just the deep swim
of work work work.
the churning of arms,
the legs kicking
to get to the other side
of the day.
that distant shore.
and now, finally
you are home.
closing your eyes
to everything, to rest.