Ode

“Ode to the Band Geeks”

Summer nights under Friday night lights

were the moments we lived for.

Screaming until our throats were raw,

Playing until our lips were blue

The butterflies fluttering as we

stepped onto the holy ground of green turf and

spray painted numbers.

We felt like gods in our uniforms

with the brass buttons that shone like the sun rising over Mt. Olympus

Our plumes made us feel like giants

and our black shoes gleamed under the stadium lights.

Our instruments were our favorite companions,

leading us to victory.

The first note was our battle cry

and the color guard’s flags flew high.

The director’s shouts were our military orders

and his eyes bore into us like bullets.

We had to be perfect, in every sense of the word

and Friday nights were the test.

Dancing, ducking, dreaming of the audience’s applause

after the last note flew toward the stadium

and our breath came out in heaves.

Our heads proudly held high

and with our backs to the field

We said goodbye.