Tonight's Poet Corner: Green Flag

Green Flag
by Belinda Roddie

The green flag
whistling
on your doorstep,
coated in debris -

where the bricks crumbled
and the walls caved in
during Loma Prieta -

I left it there for
a little girl who stopped
breathing beneath the angry stones
that held her in a dry sarcophagus.
Very dry. It soaked up
potential tears.

You can take it now,
dust off the dust,
let it hang
from a banister, a quiet
staircase. There,

it can resemble grass
in your newly grown garden,
while the men in yellow hats
give the beat of rebirth
against your huddled doors.

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