Danny Boy

I can still see you sitting

in the corner

your worn Martin in

those thin hands

head down with

bangs scattered across

your face a

little boys grimace

as the arc you played

from G to Am

really didn’t

matter as the strings

simply responded

to every grip, your

tension and release

at the exact moments

muscle memory

a sinewy fact that

replaces impulse with

innate expertise a

loving fascination and

a single-minded-ness

that to this day leaves

me breathless and

in awe

our last time

together where we sat

in your studio

and you demanded I

just listen to the fucking music

and don’t talk

for christ’s sake

don’t talk

I will try my beloved

Danny Boy

for the rest of my days

to talk less

and just listen to the music

as it melts

over us infusing our

being and forever

reminding me of our

short time together and

the joy you brought

our damaged hearts

just us    listening to the fucking music

remembering Dan Kaspari