The Band Concert

We see you there, seated

in your lawn chairs, web and canvas,

blankets spread on the ground,

the old folks clutching their canes’

curved handles and the young families

with their leashéd dogs

and unleashed children running about;

the drone of neighborly conversation

settles in the air, a soft hush sharing

this night, anticipating what

we bring this cool summer evening.

And unannounced, we begin those first

three notes, so recognizable,

and you rise, hands over hearts and hats

removed. The words are so familiar, and we

hear your voices singing along, imagine we do

anyway, - what so proudly we hailed,

at the twilight’s last gleaming.

Our hearts swell with yours in this song uplifted,

a fitting start to our music, a summer’s entertainment

in these small towns and villages we call home,

the community band playing at a band stand

or out on the lawn, a small park among the trees

or the library, playing the music we know best,

a march or two and show tunes to set our toes

to tapping, and yours, too, tapping along

to some old songs, and some new ones.

We are not symphony players, paid professionals,

just your friends and neighbors, young and old,

the grocery clerk and your bank teller, the hardware man

from down the road, a school teacher free

for the summer with time to play, a hidden

talent little known by his students, or perhaps,

a retired hero or two, kids up from the high school

band, all coming together on a summer’s night

to play for you in the early dusk, our friends

and neighbors whom we see sitting there, listening,

the young and the old, as we see you every day

on the streets of town, a community gathering

brought together by a tradition begun

with hands over hearts and hats removed,

small town Americana, life celebrated in music.