Forever he sails on a blue sea, silent and cold as steal. He chases an endless red sky and a sun that never sets. The dock is far, but his ship is true and the water shines with no wake or wave.
When he gets there, the journey will end and he will rest. There is no more to be done. No repairs to be made, no haste to unload, no pain in his wrists or legs. He will settle onto a bench and drink tea sweetened with lemon. Two black dogs settle at his feet and a breeze blows from the north east. It doesn’t worry him.
He is waiting there for us. Looking to clouds and taking long breaths into his now clear lungs. He is happy to wait.
When we get there it will all be well. He knows.