The middle child spotted it first
            From the back seat on the back road;
          White, blue, and red, waving from the
        Pole on the back corner of the
      Back stoop of the house with the
    Roll roofing and the laundry tree
  Creaking in the backyard. "What's that?

"A broken American flag?"

I see it there, yes, but those same
            Stars and bars adorn the front porch
          Of the fine house on the front street
        With magnolias in the front yard,
      And the front of the ball cap and
    The front bumper of the Camry
  And the coin shop on Frontage road.

I suppose I should be proud of
           My daughter, six years in the South
          Before noticing the banner.
        But all I can discern is how
      My great-great-grandfather followed
    This hand-stitched flag to a hell his
  Sixteen-year-old self thought righteous.