In the following poem, A. S. J. Tessimond (1902-1962) suggests that we should approach things at a different angle from that proposed by Weldon Kees in "To Build a Quiet City in His Mind." Rather than constructing something new, perhaps the better course is to slow down and consider things more closely -- unravel a tangled skein. But Kees and Tessimond may, after all, be seeking the same thing: peace and quiet.
One Almost Might
Wouldn't you say,
Wouldn't you say: one day,
With a little more time or a little more patience, one might
Disentangle for separate, deliberate, slow delight
One of the moment's hundred strands, unfray
Beginnings from endings, this from that, survey
Say a square inch of the ground one stands on, touch
Part of oneself or a leaf or a sound (not clutch
Or cuff or bruise but touch with finger-tip, ear-
Tip, eyetip, creeping near yet not too near);
Might take up life and lay it on one's palm
And, encircling it in closeness, warmth and calm,
Let it lie still, then stir smooth-softly, and
Tendril by tendril unfold, there on one's hand . . .
One might examine eternity's cross-section
For a second, with slightly more patience, more time for reflection?
A. S. J. Tessimond, The Walls of Glass (1934). The poem looks relaxed and conversational, but note the rhymed couplets.