Unfurled

All the banners of I've been under:
My father's, the church,
the crest over my heart on my school jumper
My place in the halls of learning
Bumper sticker theology
A daughter of dead soldiers
Catechumen to grace
And now sir, yours.

You unfurled it to press
To make ready the ramparts and comforts of home
Laundered and threads checked
Bed linens smelling of lavender and Spring Hope
Watered with the tears of years past
His heart and his heart and his heart
His rough words
Now soothed under the kind sound of your name

But taken aback!
Back! Back!
Sound the retreat and the scurrying of who-knows-who
Till lonely on the barren fields
I take hands with Uriah
And together we march on, alone.