Skipping Stones

Knuckles ache, fingers crack 
Peeling them away from the steering wheel
Reaching for the cardboard cup of coffee
For bitterness and reprieve
Steal back the livelihood thieved
By 5am alarm clocks

Break lights, reduced speed limits
Anxiety creeping as the journey extends.
Daily 9 o'clock pit stop no further but no closer 

Radio buzzes with audible traffic
Horns blare, words of the urgent language
Audio overload, lane change aggro
Tempers flare, nostrils flared, teeth grinding, grip firming, blood boiling, blood stained gums, a day long crick in the neck
And sore knuckles. Cracking digits

Destination sits somewhere on the edge of a circle, somewhere on the other side,
At the end of the diameter
And the end of the dream
just a couple pit stops away 
Always.

There's always tomorrow
To go to the lake
To skip stones in knee deep water
To breathe. 
To release the grip.