when will we get there

we row and row.
someone says how much farther
before we're there.
there is no answer.
we keep at it.
from left to right our
oars enter the water
and pull us forward.
the stars come out as the sun
goes away.
you can hear but you cannot
see the ocean.
you can taste it though.
feel the wash of cold
upon your hands,
your knees. the water slaps
against the side
of your small boat.
we row and row.
people longer ask when will
we get there.
we already are.