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.

Credit

From The Night Angler. Copyright © 2018 by Geffrey Davis. Used with the permission of BOA Editions.