The Flag

The Flag

April 23rd, St. George’s Day

 

How proudly they’ve hoisted it

above the greening valley!

 

From the glossy pole it flutters

limply, a butcher’s bandage

 

shorn from the cloth of Albion.

This to fete the slain Dragon?

 

I would rather keen its death,

mourn the sainted mission

 

that yields the calamity

of Earth’s energies oppressed,

 

ancient vision twisted

into man versus beast.

 

Ah, and what an abject maypole!

No kin or kith to interplay

 

their ribbons – instead, a trembling

head, its cross a fragment of the web

 

which our early ancestors

tracked across these isles. 

 

And that cross is their blood in ours –

it’s life resurrected at this fecund time,

 

when blood ripples

on England’s winding sheet.




Helen Moore – ecopoet, Forest Schools practitioner, community artist/activist www.natures-words.co.uk
http://www.shearsman.com/pages/books/catalog/2012/moore.html

Pic: Claire Palmer

 


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