Rookie Cowboy

I remember band camp and marching eight-to-five.
I remember rehearsing shirtless, always, and my sexy trumpet player tan.

I remember my first run-on and the unseen hoof beats of Bullet charging behind me.
I remember Veterans Day and the bald eagle, Challenger, screeching over us.

I remember rally-caps in the bandstand.
I remember a soar throat for days after home games.

I remember our Guns N’ Roses show.
I remember Hatcher’s ridiculous solos.

I remember our Cuban Drug Lord trumpet party, buying the cigars and margarita mix.
I remember, “$5 and a book!”

I remember hot tubs at The Buttes Marriott Resort in Tempe, Arizona.
I remember our twenty-two hour bus rides there and back again.

I remember thinking I’d never fall for a blonde.
I remember the Color Guard. I remember Tessa.

I remember so many saying they won’t return next fall.
I remember hearing that every season before, and how it’s never true.