Bus Stop Near Willows Beach

From somewhere comes music:
A trombone
played well
unlike all other trombones
that I’ve heard.

Music from one of the manors
with the trees in the yards
and old stone walls
ringing the kingdoms
of dentists and doctors
Mercedes chariots
at rest in the driveway.

There is white sand
in my shoes and
someone is playing
the trombone well
and that is good enough
for me.

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