It rests alone in overcast fields
A wisp of cloth upon the grass
A breeze picks up and the cloth it steals
Slipping it away like a cherished time passed
I’m wondering what the lettering might say
As the wind persists to blast and blow
Lifting it higher and on its way
The fabric flutters, flutters, and flows
The sun’s kind rays will kiss the threads
Its blessing warm and bright
On cloth upon which no foot treads
Just a square of red and white
The breeze must not spoil its face
As it flutters so bright and gay
I’m wondering where it will find its place
As it flutters and flows away.
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