We were there for th wind ensemble,
There was where I met you,
My senses traversed through
' ` th geography of your body,
Then, th first song.
In th expanded moment,
Tubas transformed into windmills,
Trumpets moan and yearn,
My senses never left
' ` your cotton-covered hills.
Golden canaries flew out of clarinets,
As bell flowers bloomed from th horns,
I glanced to you when it was th solo sax,
And imagined children when
' ` th percussion frolicked and fawned.
Then, the last song wrapped.
Just one more: One more, I begged.
Copyright © Welsonn Goh