Feign a great calm;
all gay transport soon ends.
Chant: who knows—
flight's end or flight's beginning
for the resting gull?
Heart, be still.
Say there is money but it rusted;
say the time of moon is not right for escape.
It's the color in the lower sky
too broadly suffused,
or the wind in my tie.
Know amazedly how
often one takes his madness
into his own hands
The speaker takes these minor phenomena–an unusual sunrise or sunset, a little wind–as omens, and uses them as a sort of excuse. 
 
 
 He or she is rationalizing a lack of adventurousness, an inability to “escape” a dissatisfying situation. Or perhaps, just embracing quietness and stillness.
When Ecstasy Is Inconvenient