Flagspeak

My Cloud white and five-point stars join royal blue and strips of red, stitched into a familiar pattern, folded and temporarily put to bed. The first time up the pole, crisp edges flap and crack in the breeze. Frosty air and rain pelts my sides as I stiffen with winter freeze. The sun burns through bones and fades my vibrant hues while wind-force snaps me about to give me tattered shoes. Until the last sigh, I give all who view my face, bluff with hope, a rousing sound of freedom's ring before the slackening of the rope.