Some Summer Night, Ten Years from Now

by Austin Veldman

Some Summer Night, Ten Years from Now
for my sons

It’s in my bone again. Whispered
into my marrow like some great secret.

Understand, please, what it means to feel every
waking heartbeat. Understand, please, the privilege.

Outside — there is nothing to be done about the outside.
About the weakening of flesh. About the leaving.

Understand that the moon does this to everyone, this
look into the ye. Into the heart.

And this is what it means, the moon and all her
craters. To be wounded. To fade and fade into shadow.

Understand what you are.

My son brandishes a sparkler — a name carved into the night
and left there, the afterburn glowing like something triumphant
in the eye.

Be brave.