Veins tuned, ready to strum

We start small like a note – hummmmmm to a melody. How do we get to heaven if we don’t sing? Dad was proud of my voice, but I never let him hear me. Sing with me Sing to me Sing the parts that are he. Sing to the moon a guttural howl. What I am now is built upon one note and with it I’ve carved a capo, the calloused fingertips, a bowed body. I lift them up, stamp my feet on the drumline. Faster boom. Faster boom boom. Strings, pressure building. Touch me. Do it. Feel the current.

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