Swallow the Shadow

I think I know the thing a poem brings:
an imposition of suggestion – with the form
and strength and lightness of a web –
upon the most intransigent mysterious
amorphous fol-de-rilly-dings that flow
and ebb inside a head and life. Today

I found out that a very precious man
to me must have an angiogram to see how
dangerous his heart may be. Delineating
ligaments of unexpected strife, examining
its tender flesh, is what this poem probably
should now address – but really what I want

from it is this: to lend a little bliss of rhyme
to soothe while cardiologists attend to finding
out what’s happening inside my friend:
what stands fast, and what must bend. Let
this poem help his heart extend and mend
and know: swallow the shadow, grow.