When I was young.. <br />I loved the trombone... <br />it's beautifully crafted horn <br />fed by long elegant tubing... <br />I loved the feel of it... <br />the caress of warm steel <br />against my cheek... <br />my lips placed gently <br />on the mouthpiece... <br />feeling the vibrations <br />down deep in the pit of my <br />....soul. <br />And working the slide in and out... <br />bass notes and treble all in one... <br />my hands gripping loosely <br />the shaft, as if guiding it <br />to places it hadn't seen... <br />and didn't need to see... <br />it was all in the feeling... <br />the auditory explosion of passion... <br />bringing it deep into my mouth, <br />then letting it slip between my teeth... <br />a glorious moan of ecstasy... <br />I loved the trombone... <br />and no one plays the bone... <br />like I play the bone.<br /><br />Coach Roth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-trombonist/
