“Breakfast”

It was a fine Leghorn egg,
and inside, unexpectedly, was the city
of Byzantium. Even from that height
he could see the flash of bedding
at the windows, the lump of Hagia Sophia,
and blue flags on the enormous city walls.
Clearly it was midsummer. Right,
he thought, remembering about love.
Not wanting the responsibility.
Watching the flies begin at it.