“The beginning of the road or its end” By: Gary Floyd

 
 
The cloud curls like a babe in the womb.
I envision a face, half shut eyes, with the cloud trailing away like an umbilical cord.
The miles roll away: they chew up the distance that separates us.
The miles roll away: the bus skips over every speed bump that life has to offer.
The miles roll away: something stirs inside, one more speed bump.
I am bringing you a present; I pray you’ll want it as much as I do.
 
Original photo.