Red, white, and blue,
Lain over the oak box.
Four hands, twenty fingers—
Grab hold, begin to fold,
Into a tight triangle.
Ever so perfect.
They hand it to my dad,
Edges folded in.
Tears stream down his face.
A hero’s salute,
Taps fades away.

That red, white, and blue,
Sits at home.
Symbolizes the commitment,
My grandfather made.
Memorialized in a box,
With my grandfather’s name:

William Schroeder
World War II