The U.S.A. Trumpet sounds a bit flat.
We of the New Millennium don’t worry about that.
The very same Trumpet, in times of yore,
Has emitted more sour notes than these we deplore.

The first, “Yankee Doodle” that ever was played,
When the, “Red, White and Blue” was for the first time displayed,
‘Twas not quite as true as one would have hoped –
The piper boy blew – for the true tone he groped.

Our growing pains grew,
As we stretched to the horizon.
The Trumpet was not so true
When is slew Native and bison?

New Orleans was over-fought,
And Washington City
Was saved from destruction
By Providence’s pity.

By then, we had over-thought
What freedom was about.
We trumpeted, “Destiny” as, “Manifest” –
With notes overwrought.

We rolled right along,
And the plains got clearer.
Then we found ourselves
Facing the mirror.

We then summoned the Trumpet —
This time to save
A wayward strumpet
From an early grave.

This time, the sound of it,
The truest of all,
Managed, bit by bit,
To cushion the big fall.

“Come-back” has a price to pay –
To mitigate the sin –
Even with, “hail Mary’s”
The tambourine sounds thin.

We needed Trumpets true and strong
To set us on the track:
A glorious, celestial chorus
To Trumpet our way back.

But, even in the best of gigs,
There’s always a sour note.
You set aside the noisy pigs;
Boot the annoying goat.

Thus, it is, fellow citizens;
Thus, it was before.
We’ve always been the, “Outs and Ins”
Behind the power door

So, when you hear the Trumpet,
Today, or some tomorrow,
Be not dismayed at the sour notes;
They only tend to borrow

From past events that will not die,
But live on to dismay
Our future selves this morning –
Or later in the day.

Now, when you hear the Trumpet
Blare notes not sweet, but sour,
Such as, “Let us live again...”
Those years we know were door --

Don’t let it get you off the track;
Stay strong and keep North-true.
For soon the monkey’s off our back –
Gone are the sour notes the latest Trumpet blew!

Curtis W. Long

Curtis W. Long

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