drums

oh, singing drums

on the high, dark

wet, biting

generous full moon

oh, chattering gourds

with the skin of gnarled sea shells

seeds inside that pluck and pick

against the dry walls and rails

of their mothers’ bones

those transformed and

transfixing bones

tapping tunes with the water

against aging, rippled glass

oh, drums in the shadow

gourds in the dark

speakers of ghosts

and brittle, hard days

of beats half-done, revoked

please

draw me out slow

sing me hard

'till I’m laid low

beneath a kindly wash of sandalwood and ylang ylang

and rhythmic shivering echoes

wake me, wake me, in the night

oh, drums.