Feign a great calm;
all gay transport soon ends.
Chant: who knows--
flight's end or flight's beginning
for the resting gull?
Heart, be still.
Say there is money but it rusted;
say the time of moon is not right for escape.
It's the color of the lower sky
too broadly suffused
or the wind in my tie.
Know amazedly how
often one takes his madness
into his own hands
and keeps it.
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