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.