All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Marching Band
Dress right.
Dress.
And snap.
I snap my head
to the right.
I align my heels as my eyes begin to wander.
I see instruments,
glistening in the hands of their owners
who stand at perfect attention.
We march and I hear them,
the instruments,
flooding me, covering me in music.
I hear the bass drum,
sound as wide as the universe,
dense and solid as a rock.
I hear the trumpets,
resounding across the empty stands,
vanishing into places unknown.
I see the clarinets,
bodies of the deepest black,
keys glittering as fingers glide across them.
I hear the tuba,
deep and hollow,
yet full and flowing.
Three. Four.
Step.
And close.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.