Meaning

We are fallen flags,
surrendered by outgrown colors
like convicted eyes grown heavy
with their past.
And yet, we remain:
painted by our shadows,
the toll of convulsion
too much for that open sky.
In the dust, all boots
step evenly beyond us:
nothing is holy laying
cross, dragging through the mud.
We are but fabric now.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s