(a trifle)

He came into the house all dripping wet
His fingers clenched and holding yet
Great fistfuls of the ever-blooming light.
His boots leave muddy prints; his jeans
Are green upon the knees
He’s holding great long tufts of light
Like rushes gathered from beside a creek.
Outside in the magnolia 
A thousand white-furred bees
Ferry between themselves the phonemes of
Two angels imperceptible.
A mile above this child, this house, the air
Is like a crystal being formed
Deep in the heart of earth.
His cheeks are red, his eyes are blue and bright.
Windchimes. His hair the colour of magnesium.
Outside a thunderstorm of light.