The Horn

Photo courtesy of Google images

Photo courtesy of Google images

Kurt Rehm


that I wanted, just out of reachlike the last pringle, hung open in the store.Needed one for myselfnot sure what, but something more.


It stood there, with the patience of a statue.If I had that horn, what I could play,what I could accomplishif I took it down from where it lay.


The look, the shine,of the silver chassis;mixed with the rose brass,how nice it would be to look that classy.


Oh, if I had that hornplaying would be a breeze;or so I thoughtbut a myriad of subtleties lay beyond the black pearl keys