PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

She found in the sands 

finger bones...

wrapped around a rusty trombone.

She wondered how long he'd been lost in this desert. 

Before death was induced by the harshness of weather.

Alone she was in the heat of the day 

digging the sands for his skeletal display.

His skull exposed where his lips had been pressed

against the mouthpiece of his aged instrument.

A soul had cried through the winds of brass.

To be taken above to the heavens at last.

For in the heat and blowing sand.

A thirst for life he could not withstand.

So he picked up his instrument of love.

And sang windy songs to the Gods above.

Through brass piped curves, he blew his last breaths.

Tonguing songs of life until the moment of death.