Anna Moriarty Lev

Sad Trumpets - Poem by Anna Moriarty Lev

sad trumpets pronouncing
taking me to a place
i can only almost reach.
always wanting
my hand outstretched
and the sad soft trumpets
they call to me
and soon the sad trumpets
are gone.
they never were.
only the faded shadow
of a memory.

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Read poems about / on: sad, memory

Poem Submitted: Sunday, February 15, 2004

Poem Edited: Sunday, October 10, 2004

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