Flags of Many Countries

into the concrete square we emerged
from damp shadows of skyscrapers
and the sky—scraped clean—
beckoned blue

we stood squinting into sunlight
cheeks thawing while
we drank in brisk air
we sent our spirits out
to the skaters
as they traced icy figures
we scanned the rows of flags
as they waved and furled
round rows of poles

you knew flags of many countries—
places most have only heard of—
you learned them as a child,
you said.
As you pointed again
I followed your childish finger
to waves of crimson
yellow billows
bolts of blue and
streams of purple
They were gusting green—
Cedars of Lebanon—
leaves and stars, stripes and shapes
and symbols

I shielded my eyes
searched for each new banner
and dreamed:
of Parisian cafés
rows of flowers along
some shady summer street—
the graceful figure you cut
as you sipped your wine
and told me, in French,
the flowers you loved best

clouds fill the sky now
looking down on them
I remember the shadow
of skaters on ice
the shadow
of flags moving on your face
and realize that
something in me has unfurled
something is waving wildly
in chilly air
bright and bold—