Sunday hours, a summer afternoon, first of August,
Nowhere to be today. All day I am free.
The bright art museum and its white walls.
Art with such vibrant colors, wild dreamings, and beauty no one else saw until it was made.
The summer sun is gentle today, and Sundays make you sleepy in thought, whimsical in your feelings.
I spend the afternoon their, just lost in all these visions.
And there are no threats here, because there is no around with whom I have fallen in love.
About 3 o'clock, I walk out, sun already descending, on the way to sleep behind the mountains.
Fort Kid is long gone, and Fort Sanders is gentrifying, and I must know remember I have so much day to fill.
I would go and get a beer on The Strip, but I would fall in love with a waitress again.
Falling in love is so easy, when it's the rush that makes you forget,
Your mind is on fire, and you've nowhere to be, and nowhere to go.
I walk to James Agee park, to sit in the sun, and to dream of someone, and not think of tomorrow.
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