Masterworks of Ming
Ming, Ming,
such a lovely
thing blue
and white
bowls and
basins glow
in museum
light
they would
be lovely
filled with
rice or
water
so nice
adjunct
to dinner
or washing
a daughter
a small
daughter
of course
since it's
a small basin
first you
would put
one then
the other
end in.
Kay Ryan wrote this meditation on a precious ancient bowl. [The one in the picture is upside down to show the design.] Ryan's brief poems, laid out so thoughtfully, have a way of sticking in the mind so that when I see a Ming style bowl -- or maybe the real thing in a museum -- I will think of washing a small girl child in it.
National poetry month is nearly over. A lot of nice poems have come my way this month, and I've tried to spread some around. I read recently a lament, by a poet, that no one buys poetry books except poets -- I think that's mostly true. But of the many things people profess they love, lovers of poetry seem especially passionate. Although I think the writer must not know many of that male species called the sports addict. I think poetry loves cannot be compared to sports addicts, only contrasted.
