FLAGS
Flags flirt with the sky
As helmets come crashing down.
The numbers are an eternal shrine.
Referees are not shy
About denying first down.
As flags flirt with the sky.
Players question why;
Spectators only groan.
For numbers are an eternal shrine.
Other fields yield blood with a sigh
As buildings and homes are blown,
But flags still flirt with the sky.
Bravery becomes the battle cry
From bystanders who are shown
The numbers in the eternal shrine.
The boys who crashed helmets at Central High
Don green helmets in the war zone
As long as flags flirt with the sky
Honoring numbers in the eternal shrine.
Drifting
Children left alone
are a rudderless ship
drifting
out to sea,
no destination in sight
unable to reach
a goal;
no course to follow,
being blown by every wind
that comes,
topsy-turvy,
unstable
as it moves along
riding
the current.
Marilynn Lester 