image by Aaron Burden on UnsplashWe reverenced the flag when I was a young girl…
proud and strong we stood, hand over heart.
Deep emotions were raised as we saw it unfurl;
our allegiance was pledged from the start.
Photo by Filip Mroz on Unsplash
She sails across an open sea
obscured in fog and memory–
a ship of ghosts, of days gone by,
her battered flag lost to the sky.
The road of life is rough and steep
with little ease along the way.
Some rivers cut and plunge so deep
they throw us back to yesterday.
Don’t like my style?
Then run away.
Don’t shake your head.
Don’t have your say.
Sometimes, in a cafe,
he gets hungry for
the red plate special.
Don’t make him blue.
Photo by Micah Tindell on Unsplash
When lightning strikes, it calls to mind
the scintillation that I find
in all those buzz sparks you ignite
the moment you burst into sight.
Life is a wet and dreary road,
oft traveled with a heavy load.
I rarely mind the soggy view
because I’m seated next to you.
I am from gentle ties that bind; from farmland and baked bread and small, sturdy hands, from goodness and grittiness, grounded in virtue and faith.