America the beautiful

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.
 

squarecheerio

VT

19 years old