I agree with Julie about S2L2. I don't count feet when I read, but somehow I kept coming up short there and falling out of the rhythm of the poem. It isn't helped by the fact that the line, taken in isolation, is rather bland--ending as it does on the words some great.... I am also not helped by the somewhat awkward scansion of the line that follows which seems to shoe-horn the mouthful of whose imaginary into too small a metrical space. In combination, those two lines kind of deflate the mood for me.
The finale doesn't help me recover. Self-identifying as bait seems a really odd way to react to the whole scenario. I didn't really get anything from the tone of what precedes it that seemed quite as ominous as that. Maybe I am missing the point of your using that image, but the poem fell absolutely flat for me at the closing moment.
As for Jim's point about using "stopped to rest" in the title, I think it is crucial to the poem as I read it.
Isn't it really all about the restfulness of motion and the motion latent in rest? The one bit that absolutely moved me was . . .
In quiet, all is speed
...and I do love that theme.
But unlike most others here, the words chosen never quite take me there.
I suspect it may be a matter of temperament.