Thursday, November 12, 2009

in memoriam

My grandfather–
My mom’s dad,
Hearty German stock,
Youngest of ten–
Served on a Marine ship
On a Pacific tour
During World War II.

And when I say “served”,
I mean that he
Served potatoes and hash,
Biscuits and gravy,
Beans and cornbread,
To all our boys
We’d sent to fight
The Japanese,
In need of a good meal
And a reminder of home.

My grandfather was a Marine cook,
And then came home after V-Day
To marry his sweetheart,
Raise their two children,
Work construction.
He did not die in action,
But he gave his life for
The stars and stripes
Every day of his seventy-three
Years. He served his country,
And he has been rewarded
By the One who sees what
Is done in secret.

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