a guest poem by Vicky Thomas
St George is cross.
The soldier saint says
He’s at a loss
To understand these days.
You who take his flag
And use his name
As some kind of brag –
He is ashamed.
He was from the Middle East,
Himself, hadn’t you heard?
So much rage has been released
He’s almost self-disinterred.
Just so you know
When you board this racist wagon
You’re no hero
To him.
You are the dragon.
Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay
