A Ride to Work

[Albert]

It was just a ride to work. Just a simple morning where the sky was a deep blue and the air was a cool refreshing wave that washed over me like baptismal waters. It was a morning that travel dreams are made of. A morning full of imagined distant highways and undiscovered scenery. It was a morning where an engine sings a strong smooth note and begs to be your best friend on some lonely road. But it was a work morning. The distant highway faded into a familiar back road. The undiscovered dissolved into the routine and the lonely road a parking lot. It was a work morning. Still . . . there’s the ride home.

[Kim J.]

Pure poetry Brother. You've caught the essence of the ride.