The Rudiments

 
For Christmas my daughter gave me a practice pad
Along with a pair of drumsticks
Now I can play whenever I feel nostalgic or sad
I just need relearn the old licks

I still remember the rudiments it’s almost ghostlike
As the rhythm echoes audibly
But as soon as I hit the notes it’s like riding a bike
I didn’t forget but I’m just wobbly

With technology and social media I have resources
I can pull up videos and learn
I can retrain my brain with all these online courses
Until my fingers bleed and burn

I’m an old man remembering a time now long gone
The way my snare drum harness hung
But it’s slowly coming back to me, every single one
The rudiments make me feel young