“Ten Minutes of Brass and Bloom”

Ten minutes—a budding of breath and brass,  
When morning’s hush is split with golden sound;  
A trumpet, sharp, slides through the dew-layered grass,  
Trombones unfurl, like petals, all around.

Below the oak, the band assembles light,  
Their cases cracked and gleaming in the sun;  
A clarion call, bold exhale, pure and bright—  
Shoots through the air, where green and music run.

Roses bob gently, waltzing to each chord,  
Sunflowers turn their faces to the tune,  
Even the crows perch close, as if to record  
The harmony poured out in hum of June.

Each note a seed, scattered across the field—  
Ten minutes’ bloom—a brass bouquet revealed.  
As echoes fade, the breeze bears every tune,  
And life swells brighter, blossomed by brass and bloom.

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