What I Mean When I Say Harmony (I)
Dear Boy: Be the muscle,
make music to the bone—risk
that mercurial measure
of contact. There are those
who touch a body and leave it
graceful: be that kind
of wonder in the dark. And if I ever
catch you confusing
a pulse for a path or a bridge
to beat loneliness, your blood
will be the object of discussion—:
I will ask to see it back,
if only to know the shared sinew,
if only to relight your blessing,
if only to rekindle the song
carried in your hands.
From The Night Angler. Copyright © 2018 by Geffrey Davis. Used with the permission of BOA Editions.