FLAG

I saw our flag

flapping and stuttering against its pole.
I saw our flag straining,
writhing and contorting
in a wind of change.

I saw the pole unbending.
Dogmatic in its stance,
leashing and lashing the flag
that gently stroked with fraying edges
its master's stand.

I saw our flag,
with a gentle embrace,
envelop the greasy pole
and then, as if to retain dignity,
I saw it fall.

That flag caressed my soul,
but I saw a truth profound
as I picked it from the ground;
for there is a hole through which all can pass
to corrode us from inside.

Our flag had lost its heart.
As we have lost our heart.
At the foot of our gallows pole.
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