Eight Minutes

June 9, 2009
By Shannon White BRONZE, Brewerton, New York
Shannon White BRONZE, Brewerton, New York
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

When we step onto the field,
it's like walking through
a carwash and everything is
left behind that white paint line

Silently, everyone simultaneously
adjusts to the thickness of the turf, trying to determine if it's
suitable for easy marching

Warming up is when it hits us;
we... are... at...
and there's no turning back

When we assume our places,
look up at the crowd and see
our drum majors saluting,
all we can hear is the heavy pulsing of our hearts

And for the next eight minutes
you get this amazing jolt of energy and it's like these eight minutes are what we've been working and living for,

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