Writing A Song

Something flips on a circuit breaker inside my head.
A melody appears.
I can’t sing the notes.
The rhythm speaks through my fingers.
The lyrics fall into a coma.
I hum the tune,
But every time I repeat it,
The notes change.
The rhythm shifts.
By the fourth time, the song is being played through the wall of a college dorm.
By the sixth time, the song is indecipherable, made of mumbles and whispers.
I hear the song for a final time before it floats away,
A plastic bag trapped in an updraft.
And I am left without music.