Baby’s Horn

white heart in black spoon

when baby plays that horn

birds sit down to listen

tall girls dance slowly

grown men cry

when baby plays his horn

small boys whistle

youngsters snap their fingers

old ladies close their eyes, sigh

when baby plays his horn

his brow glistens

his hands caress

his eyes cloud over

when baby plays his horn

i open

wider than the fattest notes

& smile

when baby plays his horn

About Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

I create; therefore I am.
This entry was posted in Letter's From Lover's Rock and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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