Thursday, November 30, 2017

A Red One

You ran in with a fist full of flags
and told me one was mine.

"A Red One!" you yelled
and ran screaming from the field.

And I took you at your word
because I'm true to mine
but now I sit here 
wondering what you meant.

You see, I see 
my own humanity
and human-ness
and yes,
a distinct lack of perfection, 
I'm not holding any

so I'm confused
and wondering what you saw 
in these, my empty hands.

And from what I've heard from those around me
who look daily at my hands
empty of all 
ready to hold,
I think it was you
waving your own flags so hard and fast
and with a fury you seem to think means "truth"
that you didn't see
what was real
and true
and right in front of you.

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