The Trumpet
Always shining, clean, dusted,
polished trumpet with which he called
the reveille in special gusto and as
solemnly and as officially he called
the raising and lowering of the flag
daily events he took part in, the sound of
trumpet was sometimes sweet and joyous
that his comrades admired and always
praised although this morning’s sound
apocalyptic, sorrowful, and pensive
like a eulogy since the trumpeter
received a letter from home which
informing him that his beloved
Maro got engaged to the fat wallet
of a successful merchant, Maro couldn’t
wait for him, she had to look after
her future, painful thoughts which
came to his mind and reflected in
the trumpet’s pensive mood
this morning that the trumpet mourned
today that nature turned yellow and
the trumpeter felt like a fish out
of water, he who, like most others,
gave so much importance to what
his parents and society had taught him.
Manolis Aligizakis 