It is hard         not to be impatient

at our slowness and how much

            breath             we require sometimes more

than a lung’s space     when I was sick

            I looked most like myself      

it’s surprising             you’d think the manatee would

clot      the canal is admitting boats almost

            indiscriminately the slow slur

of bilge water pulled into a frenzied

smoothness     what you have seen mysteriously

            rise and redouble        and fold under

your own hands has come to take

            your place       cover it well

and let stay tranquil