Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
How quiet it is
How quiet are you
How warm it is
How warm are you
Pare it back
Go deeper
Explore then
Further than ever
I was ok
One to one
I even coped
With one more
How noisy it became
How noisy it was for you
How calm it is
How calm are you