Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Scrap of cloth,
emblem of sorrow and love,
flag striped with the colors of the sky...
I still feel your kisses, your caresses
against my cheek.
I, who do not believe in nation
or in politics...
Here, in the multitude,
wrapped in my ambivalence,
my confusion,
my ignorance,
arm in arm with my two children, ten and twelve,
and my compañeros,
for a brief moment I felt – something.
I don’t know.
Something almost unbearable.

Burning sun, exhaustion,
the harsh growls of the loudspeakers,
... and patience. Infinite patience,
tranquility.
(At times we were nervous.
“We can only wait,” my friends said.
“Blows and tear gas don’t frighten us.”
But, you understand, Flag,
to die is asking a great deal.)

Just the same,
there we were,
together, united.
And, like all siblings,
a little quarrelsome, a little jealous,
yet always, always ... family.

Then, from the row behind us,
from the pole held in the tiring arms of a waiting marcher
(we had been standing in line, so long!)
your folds blew forward with a light breeze,
drifted past my hair and now and then
tenderly brushed my face.

I can never,
I do not ever,
want to forget how your gentle greeting moved me.
No, I do not believe in “Nation” or in politics.
But I was there, brave Flag.
Arm in arm with my children,
my companions, my siblings.
I was there.

I will always be there for you.

(were you at Ezeiza?? with two kids and only for flag´s love and not beliving in politics or nation ideas??... were you a CIA agent or a bit crazy??? -sorry..., it´s my 2010 personal humor negro argentino in action...-).

Here, in the multitude,
wrapped in my ambivalence,

now, (seriously), great poem!. And gracias again for share them!

Sue, keep these snippets of history coming, I'm enjoying them!!

¡Arcadia, sera el humor Sud Americano en accion! Ché, ¡que cosa!

Difficult subject you deal with here. Your cadences are really a pleasure to follow. jim

No, no, Arcadia, not Ezeiza! This was after Ezeiza. The Joventud Peronista had organized an honor and support march--Peron, Isabelits and Lopez Rega were in a stand observing as we marched by. Fortunately they were too tired to speechify. And no, I was not CIA, no way, but a bit crazy, perhaps ...

Lucy, if I ever learned anything I learned that you don-t live history, you discover what history is years later when somebody explains the time you were living in. You would think that being there you would know what the hell was going on, but not true.

Un abrazo, Sue