Snap!
I jump.
The flag cackles behind me,
whipping the wind into shape.
50 stars in the corner, cornered.
They no longer twinkle, but stand
shoulder to shoulder.
Their gaze feels like a threat,
saying,
don't kneel, heel,
get your fist out of the air,
put it on your heart.
The Me Too movement? Who’s she?
The stripes back them up –
red, promising this will be the last,
white, hooded like our past,
together, a warning sign.
No need to cross the line,
everything is fine.
I step closer.
The flag catches on the building,
rips
like an actor caught without his mask.
It’s become something I recognize.
Still star spangled
but tangled.
These tattered remains
better not be here to stay.
How do we mend this hole
to become whole?
Not again,
but for the first time.
I jump.
The flag cackles behind me,
whipping the wind into shape.
50 stars in the corner, cornered.
They no longer twinkle, but stand
shoulder to shoulder.
Their gaze feels like a threat,
saying,
don't kneel, heel,
get your fist out of the air,
put it on your heart.
The Me Too movement? Who’s she?
The stripes back them up –
red, promising this will be the last,
white, hooded like our past,
together, a warning sign.
No need to cross the line,
everything is fine.
I step closer.
The flag catches on the building,
rips
like an actor caught without his mask.
It’s become something I recognize.
Still star spangled
but tangled.
These tattered remains
better not be here to stay.
How do we mend this hole
to become whole?
Not again,
but for the first time.
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