Slow

A compact poem argues for slowness as a harder and more honest mode of attention than speed, panic, or hindsight.

The speaker treats `slow` as something more than pace. It becomes a discipline against calling events finished too quickly, and the wasp image keeps the whole thing uneasy rather than serene.

The poem argues against its own title and wins the argument anyway. 'You would rather be sorry than slow' is the accusation, 'it never happens at all' is the threat — the modern preference for watching disaster rather than preventing it. The wasp is the image that makes slowness feel dangerous rather than peaceful: slow enough to sting, not slow enough to be safe. An aphorism dressed as a poem.