the day beautiful and blue

The day beautiful and blue like an egg of gladness,

like a small persistent sparrow, like a stream of plums

you glide onto from your dream of honey glazing

the brown coffee table, four legs entwined in goo

and tedious homework you somehow love, telling time
and her minions of the diminutive detail to lumber along
at once, you'd rather be absorbed in this disappearing garden,
the fountain your brother bore on his back after those months in solitary,
the voices screaming taunts even his deafness heard.