Flapping in the Wind
by Ken Hada

Driving through Alpena
I saw a guy sitting on a porch
drinking Mountain Dew
from a two-liter plastic jug.

A faded rebel flag hung
askew in the front window
beside a rusted screen door
flapping in the wind.

I saw his face close as I
passed (gearing down
for small-town cops). I saw
his eyes, his red ears

and he saw me. In that
chance glimpse of recognition
I shifted gears and thanked
God for plastic jugs.

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