NaPoWriMo #18: Banners

Branches sway back and forth,
reflect the sunlight in patterns
that are untraceable.  Each leaf
is interested in twisting in ways
that has never been seen before.
Wind, too, slides across grass,
wrinkling the hair of the earth,
messing with its natural combover.
I let fast breezes whip up
my shirt, spotlight my belly
in the sun.  Although it's chilly,
I stay outside without a jacket
so I can count dandelions,
wondering if there's enough
to populate an imaginary world.
Across the street an American
flag snaps back and forth,
making a crackling noise I love
to hear.  Nearby a bloody battle
was fought.  The soldiers raised
their banners in the aftermath
of a storm.  If I carried one
under fire, I'd have it be
of the earth, trees promising
pollen, insects carrying it
to where it needs to bloom,
saplings rising straight up.
I'd beg them not to mow us
down, promising them the faith
of youth, its impossible dreams.