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