Legacy

Legacy

The paper memories gather dust
upon the mantle. Clearly seen,
an homage to a cause that’s just;
a testament to “might have been.”

A valentine from north Iraq,
a Christmas card from Germany
with scribbled words, “I’ll soon be back”
that echo in her memory.

A folded flag, encased in glass,
stands in relief against the wall.
A Purple Heart, its shining brass
stands tribute to his duty’s call.

A picture in a gilded frame
is all that’s left for her to touch.
She sobs and softly calls his name
before the pain becomes too much.

She bows her head in silent prayer.
Both pride and pain still fill her mind.
It’s almost more than she can bear;
emotions so closely entwined.

“Is this the measure of his life?”
she wonders, holding tears at bay.
“Some cards, a flag, a grieving wife?”
Her strength dissolves; she starts to sway.

She feels a hand slide in her own.
Her son – no, theirs – stands by her side.
“I understand. You’re not alone.”
Her pain is now replaced with pride.

“He stood when called. He did what’s right.
He sacrificed for you and me.”
I watch our son, eyes gleaming bright.
I know my soldier’s legacy.

An entry for "HONORING OUR VETERANS "  [ASR]
Prompt: Open