Flag Day

Oh, my, it's 7:30 p.m. and I haven't written a poem. This is going to be harder than I thought. Well...
Flag Day

I am ambivalent about the flag.
When I see it protruding from the house
In the next block
Or, even more suspect,
Hanging on a specially-installed pole
In a circle of concrete
Surrounded by red geraniums,
Blue salvia,
And white flox,
I wonder if the owner is one of those
"Love It or Leave It" people,
And I bristle.
I am from the flag-burning generation,
The ones who marched
And fled to Canada
And stopped the war.
But what about Allegiance? you ask.
What about Liberty and Justice for All? I reply.


June 14, 2009
Seattle