Our Flag

I've flown high on poles
on hills over towns;
stood watch next to headstones
on green hallowed grounds.

Accompanied the brave
to their final resting place;
draped their coffins
until lowered in their space.

I've been handed to family
of veterans who died;
a memorable keepsake
of honor and pride.

I've flown half-staff,
I've lead parades;
I've been shot with cannons
and hit by grenades.

I fly high and proud
on installations,
in consulates and embassies
in foreign nations.

In churches and schools
and shopping malls,
on baseball fields
and in Legion halls.

I am not clothing.
I am not a rag.
I am not something
you disrespect and scrag.

I am a symbol of freedom
all over the world;
flown with pride,
a flag unfurled.

So face me when
the anthem is played;
stand and salute
so your respect is displayed.

by Joe Filipiak

Comments (6)

highly intriguing and very intense, overlay of death.. musings very complex, am saving this for a re-read.. thanks for sharing.
Life and death are two sides of same coin...
Death is part of us. Nice work.
Intriguing poem by all standards.
I love your rhyme scheme. Very clever.
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