The twenty minutes from half past nine

to ten of ten is actually slightly longer

than the twenty minutes from ten of ten

to ten past ten, which is half downhill

as anyone who’s ever stared at the hillocky

face of a clock in the 5th grade will tell you.

My trombone lesson with Mr. Leister

was out the classroom door and down

the tessellating hallway to the band room

which was full of empty chairs and music stands

from ten past ten to ten-forty, which is half

an hour and was actually slightly shorter

than the twenty minutes that came before or after,

which as anyone who’s ever played trombone

will tell you, had to do with the length of the slide

and the smell of the brass and also the mechanism

of the spit-valve and the way that Mr. Leister

accompanied me on his silver trumpet making

the music sound so elegantly and so eminently

better than when I practiced it at home

for hours and hours which were all much shorter

than an hour actually, as anyone who’s ever

practiced the art of deception with a musical

instrument will tell you, if he’s honest and has any

inkling of the spluttering, sliding, flaring,

slippery nature of time, youth, and trombones.

 

 

© by Paul Hostovsky.

Used with the author’s permission.