Easy and composed
Retired in some place
Containing its mood
From urging its pace
Shoulders and neck
Are much more at rest
When numbers are small
And grasp you, I shall
And then
I breathe
Intone
And I rest
Alone
I breathe
Intone
And I rest
Fingers clap. Snap!
Was it my turn
Add my tepid talk
To the rowdy flock?
I care only to loose
Myself in reserve
If waves around clash
I leave in mild thoughts
And then
I breathe
Intone
And I rest
Alone
I breathe
Intone
And I rest