Seasonal Musician Disorder
Downbeats like raindrops –
I hold on; I’m not leaves.
Cooling off from summer’s scorching set,
I’m fall’s morning dew,
a beaded brow, drummer’s sweat;
until the parched, cracked dry of winter’s here,
I’m the crush, the shush-
sound of a brush on the snare.
On the snow-smattered ground
I’ll swell like a cymbal
and crash and thrash ‘till they all hear the sound.
Not all my bulbs thrive as spring rolls around.
My volume will crest as the sun hangs high
like an overzealous groupie
deplete of thick vitamin D,
giving too little,
In heat, I’ll feel like singing again.
©2020 Annie James Thomas All rights reserved.
Annie James Thomas is a New England-based writer, music lover, and collector of all things vintage. Her obsession with the sea is evident in her tattoo collection. Her fiction has been published in The Release of Silence: A Mental Health Anthology, and she is a co-founder and editor for Loud Coffee Press literary magazine. This is her fiction pen name. In an alternate science career, she has authored or co-authored close to two-dozen written pieces, including a story in Nourishing the Soul of Pharmacy: Stories of Reflection.