a west side story – Wagga in the park

I feel pretty
oh so pretty …

the Army is out

Sergeant Major
is a one-man baton charge
backed by brass
by wind
and by reed

Maria is in love
and the Army plays sharps

not a gang
but close

the Air Force
can play the Jets

tonight tonight …

I think I can hear
or percussion shakers going off

it’s hard to see the band
from where I am sitting

I know they’re under
the bandstand rotunda
and I have clear vision
they are blending
into the pavilion
in camouflage fatigues
and by general stealth

only the luffing of air
as it kisses the microphones
points me towards
their actual location with

… America
ok by me in America

and the Army band
West Side of Wagga

the wind
whisks up a score
as it passes
and tumbles it away

© Frank Prem, 2017

August 2017 Poem #21: day-made green

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