5/6/14

Silent, she held it warily, a thing of power,

a voice.

A boy, trying to help

eased it from her, gently

beat it, gave it back

She threw her sweet tin down

the playground slope

It's lid exploded off, the sides

not round now, bounced.

"Why did he play it?

It's not my drum anymore."

Her face, alive, relishing each

crashing bang. Her rhythm