Flag’s Snap

The flag cracks sharp, a whip in cold air,

flapping ragged, restless against steel.

It thrashes loud, a harsh pulse

cutting through the morning hush.

Each snap a sudden bite,

a sound that startles the quiet streets,

a language rough and raw,

spelling tension in the chill.

I watch the tattered edges claw,

a dance without grace or rhythm,

the stubborn banner fighting wind,

not waiting, just surviving.