Poetry

Drumming

Outside I hear drumming
More than an hour
Of pulsing swells
Over and over and over
There is something primitive and deep
In the soul of a beat
The drums of change
The drums of revolution
Revolution never comes
It never will
And the drummers will stop
Before the day ends

Outside I hear drumming
Folks gather
Mostly Black folks
One White
In Malcolm X Park
Meridian Hill Park
Drum together
Some Latinos
It is an overcast day
Has been overcast for days
In Washington, DC
Columbia Heights
The last thing we need is revolution

Outside I hear drumming
I could use a nap
But we're having a worship service soon
In the building where I work
I'm working this weekend
Pray and Act to Put the Nation's Poor on the National Agenda
Our office is across the street from the park, Malcolm X Park
Waiting for a revolution
Still drumming

© Jeshua Erickson 2005