There is no flag fluttering overhead, no patriotic symbol ‘neath which we, hand on heart, pledge allegiance. We are just us. Nevertheless our flag marks out who we are, from whence we came or if new citizens, where we now reside.
Red white & blue the Union Flag (or Jack), a flag to signify the union of
England and in 1606. (Sadly, in this divided world of ours, ?some
?many in Scotland
now wish independence.) The Union flag
bears many a stain of the blood of others, has fluttered over horrors I cannot
even imagine. I would suggest that the
flags of many (most?) nations share similar shameful histories, these histories being written even now. Scotland
Am I proud to be British, English – I think I am. If not quite proud, seeing the strife that scars the world today – I am glad I am. I feel safe here, mostly safe, relatively safe, fearful sometimes perhaps. I think (perhaps viewing through rose-tinted glasses) that the silent majority of us Brits are okay as people. Am I proud to be British, English – probably. Am I proud to be human – definitely not.
Flags flutter madly,
earth signals in semaphore –
winter is coming
Written for Susan’s prompt at Poets United where she asks us to write of National Flag(s). My response a bit of doom and gloom perhaps, but sadly, this is how I view this world of ours at present.
Image: Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons