Thrumming: A Poem For Adam—By PJ

Duel, (watercolor, manipulated at Photomosh.com) by Kelly Eddington, 2018. Based on a reference photo by Joe Ahorro.

Thrumming: A Poem For Adam

PJ DeGenaro

THRUMMING

A poem for Adam Clayton on his birthday.

“I don’t think rock’n’roll is necessarily a young man’s game.” 

— Adam Clayton

Like a table crafted with skill and care

By the hands of a master joiner

I have taken on the smooth, soothing tones of age.

But never doubt my strength.

When you lay your hand on the trunk of a bare tree in March

Don’t you feel the new sap thrumming?

Don’t you feel the furled buds waiting 

To open to the sun?

I may not be the flower or the bee

But I am listening: awake and ready to go.

In my room deep in the forest

I’ve ridden out another winter 

Among scattered books and cups of tea.

But behind my placid face

The boy still rages:

The one who does not fit,

The one who will not sit still,

The one who wanders away.

Call me out to play.