The Commuter

Charon is life. You can't remember

Getting in the boat. You've forgotten
Most of your time rowing back and forth,
But you feel the rush passing under
Sideways to the pulling of your oars,
And you know you want to pull some more.

It's not, as you thought, a one-way trip.
It's a lot of to and fro until
You finally pull your aching neck,
Sore arms, and sleeping legs out of it.
This is the ferry you've been aboard,
Nearer, farther, nearer either shore.