there's something to be said
           about Sundays
           & slow days
           & highways divided by minutes
                              35 or 45 (depending on the year..)
& the fields
& that green bridge
& the shared rooms w/ all-night
                                    conversations finding names
                                    on ceilings a thousand times over

there will always be something to be said
          about Sundays
          about after dinner 6 p.m. goodbyes
          about closing the car door

& waiting in the many entrances
& a fading black speck on #11..