Elliot wore a yellow jacket
and sat in the park most days, drumming.
People would stop and listen or stare for a while
and then Elliot would stand up and point and say,
you will lose what you love most
unless you lose yourself first,
and then go back to drumming.
It was this way before signals
and beeping light farms
came to town and the drummers went away.
I got here as soon as I could.
You and I can listen to the wind
in the trees in the park together.
Someday, maybe not soon,
the drummers will be back.