remembrance

In response to: Black and Gold

 

remembrance

 

so you bounce and land near the pounding drum line; and your flesh boils to its haunting rhythms; while your tiny mallet hits the metal bars on your glockenspiel; narrowly missing the high plink of your solo note in the national anthem; but you march on forming and reforming patterns on the field that you cannot see and can only imagine; festooned in your school’s colors; your heart beats wildly; you can barely breathe; anxiety overwhelms you and you cannot remember how the music ends.

©Karen Casady 2021