An Afternoon with Earl Gray

A sip.
Hm, a bit too much milk.

Ripples amid the gray pond;
Stomach lurches;
I toss down some more.

Beyond the still-rippling surface
I see the ants below
dutiful

It is a conviction
so I tear off my watch,
second hand
audibly ticking -
A bomb.

I throw it
and it lands among them.
Too busy to care.

I frown.
Another sip.
Another frown.

My tea follows
the watch.

My back hears
the clatter
as I return
to my broken house.

Author's Note

This poem was inspired by the following photo:
http://news.yahoo.com/nphotos/man-drinks-tea-he-observes-continuing-demonstration-ninth-floor-balcony/photo//110201/481/urn_publicid_ap_org76d43e8acdb34c3980e8185cbcb42aff//s:/ap/ml_egypt

Reviews

[An Ordinary Woman]

He is busy, sad, rushed. It's a lovely poem though. I tried Earl Gray, I didn't care for it but it has some wonderful, healthy properties, I'm told.