The Drummer

Paradiddle, Flam
A percussive melody

Sinew flexing and bending
The long trained memory

Hickory chips float
just outside of gravity’s reach

Sticks are blurring, purring
Tearing the air in two

Faster and Faster
The sweat begins to pour

The metronome ticks
The finely crafted watch inside his head

Practice
Till knuckles no longer bleed
Till sticks no longer fail
Till the beat,like arrows, hit every single mark
Till the frustration of the limitations are slowly tapped away