Ecco

Listen, says ambition, nervously shifting her weight from

one boot to another—why don’t you get going?

For there I am, in the mossy shadows, under the trees.

And to tell the truth I don’t want to let go of the wrists

of idleness, I don’t want to sell my life for money,

I don’t even want to come in out of the rain.

Listen, says ambition, nervously shifting her weight from

one boot to another—why don’t you get going?

For there I am, in the mossy shadows, under the trees.

And to tell the truth I don’t want to let go of the wrists

of idleness, I don’t want to sell my life for money,

I don’t even want to come in out of the rain

and I thought
how I meant to live a quiet life
how I meant to live a life of mildness and meditation
tapping the careful words against each other