Chapter 6

“It started with your verse, of course,” he said slowly. “I’d never read anyone who regarded frailty of spirit in such compassionate images before. Like the young man who forsook his destiny in favor of a passionless union. Others would have mocked his choice. Called him infirm.” When Micah lifted his head this time, his gaze burned where it locked with Jefferson’s. “You called him dauntless. Applauded his strength of spirit to give to another what he wished for himself. And I knew from just that one selection what kind of man you would be.”

Jefferson swallowed, then swallowed again. He knew exactly which poem Micah spoke of. He knew Micah expected him to engage him on an intellectual level. He should discuss why he chose to write the poem in trochees instead of iambs. He should ask Micah if he noticed the way the rhythm broke down in the final verse. He should discuss the classical allusions. Instead he murmured, “I almost didn’t include that poem in the volume at all.”