B♭

I elevate the African Blackwood  

with my hands—right digits resting  

gently around the lower tube; 

left around the upper.

Just above the swollen barrel lies 

a strip of bamboo, trapped by the 

cool, metal binding. 

With moistened lips, I place the 

single barrel to my mouth, allowing 

the aperture to envelop the tip—relaxed,  

I blow.  My fingers dance across the  

surface like a ballerina on a stage: 

Adagio. 

Andante. 

Legato. 

Confidence in the rhythm inspires  

gradual accelerando of the movement.   

To keep control, I focus on  

embouchure, and breath: 

In, out. 

In, out, out, out.   

In, out, in.  

Warm timbres reverberate down 

the shaft, escaping through the 

bell with a strong, volcanic release: 

Allegro. 

Staccato. 

Crescendo. 

Sweet music to my ears.