It's the most American thing I can think of
They've been wrapped around my body since 4:15 am
It takes 30 students 2 hours to stick 2,996 flags into our soccer field
The array becomes mangled as our hands blister
As the mud cakes into our clothing
The first stains I will never be able to wash out or forget
It's impossible to envision each flag growing out of the ground into a human being who can go home to their family
Because they can't; we've just stuck sticks into the ground
As if that's any solace to anyone, us, let alone their loved ones
Dead, mowed grass cakes in the hem of my new jeans
Thick and durable, woven for farm work
All of the little kids will wonder why the flags are there- it was before their time
Taught to them as history, the start of the War on Terrorism
I remember it as smoke, as human lives, as stitches in my blue jeans
As people who didn't turn away when freedom was compromised
Our virtues true, we patriots must rise
More than the flags, more than the smoke
More than crashed airplanes and burning buildings