I like driving Sunday afternoons
When the road is quiet and still,
At peace after the busy weekend traffic.
A Sunday road cannot be ignored,
Weary from the task of daily
Bearing the weight of man from place to place.
At times I almost feel the road must weep
For joy as Sunday comes.
And the other drivers seem to agree
As we amble along below the speed limit,
Stopping and waiting patiently—
As if, for a day, it's time to let the road
Rest from its labors.
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