Morning's Glory

It’s too early for this chaos,

Yet I can’t get enough of the sound.

Lost in the vibrating waves of music,

Instruments up to the lips around me,

Yet not a cue from the teacher to be seen.

She sits back and watches,

Taking in what she helped to create,

Letting us have our freedom while we still have the chance.

School hasn’t started yet, but here we all are,

Gathered in what isn’t our prison, but our haven.

A little classroom to call our own.

The bell rings loudly, piercing the beauty of the moment,

Ushering us into silence.

We wait. She stands. Horns up!

We play.