The Flag

As I passed the Post Office early this morning, I noticed three Federal employees standing out by the flag pole.  The American flag at the top of the pole whipped back and forth in the wind, against the promise of a beautiful, new day.

Then I noticed something.  Something that gave way to sadness.

One of the employees had, crumpled up in his arms, a flag.  It looked to be an older one, but I couldn’t be sure.  Regardless, Old Glory was in a heap, parts of her spilling over his forearm as he shifted his weight from one leg to the next.  The three men stood there for a bit, smiling and carrying on conversation.

Then the light ahead of me turned green. As I accelerated slowly toward work, I carried a bit of that sadness with me.

2 responses to this post.

  1. You are an awesome writer, among other things. I’ve read back a few months and have just dried up a lot of tears. I enjoyed our conversation at Niki’s the other night and hope to get to know you better during the next few weeks that I’m here.

    I’ll be reading!

    🙂 Chrissy


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