Softened Sounds

Muted music from the brass horn
drowns out the way the notes were born.
Tinny, not full with rounded tones
sounding to me like quiet moans.

Uncover the flare. Let the horn blare
the way it was meant to be.
If you wish to hear quiet melodies
let the hands play soft ivories.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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