ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 4
OUR DAYS
my brother in the tree
leaning over our house
sleep that came on us suddenly
there were little terrors
and rainpots in the attic
for the leaking roof
swallows skimming over clover
with their turns and dives and crossings
traced out a name
no a map
to a treasure dug out of our days
of labor and ice cream
no it was a likeness
of my harm effort and laughter
reduced to their strokes in air
that pure art followed
by tidy birds going after
the small lives that jumped from our hay