Flag Day

A sunny Sunday in June,

And in this subdivision

Multiple flags are flying.

Never mind what kind. They’re flags.

We’re pleased with ourselves, they sign.

Has there ever been a worse,

More typically human

Invention than the banner?

Extension of headdresses

And the body ornaments

Worn to look fierce when fighting,

Decorations to declare

We are the Such-and-Such Folk!

We’re proud, and you should fear us!

We’re righteous, don’t dare wrong us!

If the description’s honest,

Even describing this feels

Facilely ridiculous—

False flag, rally round the flag,

Capture the flag, wave the flag—

Scraps of fabric hung from sticks

To say, our team has gathered

Here, we hold this ground, join us,

Run from us, try to take us.

That a cloth should be revered

For the pattern it contains—

Well, it’s not the cloth is it?

It’s loyalty. It’s the call

To stand with some folks against

Others, the enemy flags.

A visual apposite

Odor molecules of ants.

A sunny Sunday in June,

And in this subdivision

One kind of flag is flying.

Ever any other kind?