Purple heart (for Dad)

I drove by the local cemetery this morning.  It was filled with uniforms, both military and boy scout.  There I saw flag upon flag, many women with hats.  Dad died fifteen years ago at the same age that his father died (73).  Grandpa served in WWI, Dad in WWII.  Neither ever said much about their experiences.  Perhaps we didn*t ask enough.  Perhaps I was too young to even comprehend.

He always said his purple heart

Was for

Falling off a truck

In Europe.

Every month the disability check came,

A teeny tiny amount

For an injury

I never saw.

I remember we never made it

To World War II

In American History.

Instead we had endless lessons

On the Industrial Revolution.

Then the end of the school year came.

We almost entirely

Skipped the 20^th Century.

Here it is the 21^st.

All grown up

I learned the purple heart

Was not just awarded

When he fell off a truck

In Europe.

The truck was bombed.

It blew up.
He was the only one who survived.

My father always had a gift

For understatement.

My father always was a gift

In understated ways.