A gentle breeze on your face
Comrades march in front, behind
Heads held high
Drum leads the march
Shoulders back
All in step
Spread out among the field
Silenced breath
The cadence stops
Wait.
Major stands tall
Hands raised, ready to begin
No voices heard
No horns blare
All is quiet
Until the signal is given
One, two, hands conduct
A single drum
All start to move
Quietly in step
Into formation
Into the fray
Sharp beat
Horns begin to play
Through the show
Tiny mistakes
Cost victory
But it is not defeat
Final note rings
It is over
Snare drum taps
Silent march away
Kathryn Kubacki
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/marching-band-6/
