Quietly Circling the Bowl

 

I adore this poem, talking about the kind of composure I long to have—

China 


I am an ant inside a blue bowl

on the table of a cruel prince.

Battle plans are being discussed.


Much rice wine is poured.

But even when he angers


and drives a long knife into the table,

I continue to quietly circle 
the bowl,

hand-painted with oranges and green vines.

—Billy Collins



image:  Etruscan Glass Bowl, Wolfgang Sauber