garage sale

these instruments
left behind. the tuba
no longer
blown. its brass
gone green,
the violin with strings
detached,
a drum
now numb and flat,
the broken sticks beside it.
the music
has ended, but what
glory
there was in sound,
as fingers
and hearts
moved fast along
the scales, feet tapped,
raising hope, fielding
pleasure,
putting something akin
to love into
the air.