American Box

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