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A Silent Night in Aggieland

Aggieland was dark and silent –
Save for a gentle rhythmic cadence
Echoing across the void.
The cadence converges on a black dark square
Filled with a silent congregation
Waiting there beneath the starry expanse.
The cadence slows…halts…and all is silent.
Thrice a thundering flash the silence shatters
And the birds like souls flit about.
As the smoke and echoes fade,
A mournful bugle softly calls
Marking the passing of comrades.
The twelfth-man departs in silence –
Aggieland is dark, and silent once again.

© 2001 David G. Brown