Sound of the Drums

Rhythm, poetry, and the traditions of Andalucía

Photo by Lucía Garó on Unsplash

We head into the heat of battle
Dressed in jackets red and gold;
Trousers pressed and smart shoes found
Another Saint’s Day,
The drums will sound.

Mine rests silent, aside from its brothers
Among the stainless steel and olives,
Men with flags and snares abound
Glasses raised,
The drums will sound.

Old General with moustache surveys
He sips at brandy, unperturbed
As birds of paradise surround
Performing ritual,
The drums will sound.

I take my helmet joining rank
When shots ring out into dark,
Veterans mark their battleground
Sticks gripped tight,
The drums will sound.

A hundred glowing candles hang
From lips that taste the warm night air,
The church bell scales the hills around
At stroke of midnight,
The drums will sound.