Drum Dream Girl

On an island of music, in a city of drum beats, the drum dream girl dreamed.

Of pounding tall conga drums/ tapping small bongó drums/with big loud sticks on big, round silvery moon-bright timbales.

But everyone on the island of music in the city of drumbeats believed that only boys should play drums.

So, the drum dream girl had to keep dreaming quiet, secret, drumbeat dreams.

At outdoor cafes that looked like gardens she heard drums played by men/but when she closed her eyes she could also hear her own imaginary music.

When she walked under wind-wavy palm trees in a flower-bright park/ she heard the whir of parrot wings/the clack of woodpecker beaks/ the dancing tap of her own footsteps and the comforting pat/ of her own/heartbeat.

At carnivals she listened to the rattling beat of towering dancers on stilts. and the the dragon clang of costumed drummers wearing huge masks. At home her fingertips rolled out their own dreamy drum rhythm on tables and chairs…and even though everyone kept reminding her that girls on the island of music had never played drums, the brave drum dream girl dared to play tall conga drums, small bongó drums and big, round, silvery moon-bright timbales.

Her hands seemed to fly/ as they rippled/ and rapped/and pounded/all the rhythms/ of her drum dreams.

Her big sisters were so excited that they invited her to join their all-girl dance band. But their father said, “only boys should play drums.” So the drum dream girl ha to keep dreaming and drumming alone. Until finally, her father offered to find a music teacher who could decide if her drums deserved to be heard.