Take Down the Flags, Hang Flowers Instead
Early one morning, in my dressing gown,
I, having opened the curtains, espied
A Union Jack, hanging upside down,
Atop of the disused lamppost outside;
And later that day, I saw many more,
Hanging from nigh every post in the street;
I strolled on, perplexed: what were they all for?
A celebration of Windsor’s elite?
A final I’d missed, that England had won?
Impossible news, of a Brexit deal,
Highly beneficial to everyone?
Or an armed forces memorial drill,
In remembrance, announced by a bugle?
Ours is a garrison town after all.
Or, was it a foolish interpretation
Of patriotism: a misguided
Zealousness, fuelled by misinformation,
Nostalgia, prejudice, lopsided
Media, gullibility, frustration;
A magnate manufactured culture war;
A celebration of tax evasion,
Greed, billionaires, the broken rule of law;
Repeated use of the adjective, “GREAT”
Applied to a past that was anything but,
When wealthy landowners governed the state,
Purses were jealously guardedly shut,
To your GREAT GREAT grandfathers and mothers;
Their sons and daughters, sisters and brothers?
Pondering this, a ladder I ascended,
Cut the ties; and the “Made in China” flag,
From atop the obsolete post, descended,
Landing beside a council black bin-bag
And some plastic flowers, that, for all I knew,
Could have been made in the same factory
Yet, being prettier than red white and blue,
Beautiful even, comparatively,
I hung them and made a statement that day,
With a view to, maybe starting a trend,
And after the colours were thrown away,
I hoped that mine had been left till the end,
If only to sow a seed in your head:
Take down the flags, hang flowers instead.
