I am on that easy street
Warm wool socks
On my fresh bathed feet
Feeling good, feeling neat
Softer rock
With a rich, irregular beat
I have this time
To sit half still
I have the dime
With desire to fill
I think on back, to that seat
No more clocks
Nor ledgers to complete
Looking out, as if on retreat
Swirling frocks
With feelings running deep
I have this line
As if by that rill
I have my mind
Where hope is distilled
