The Flag He Packed

Journal

Granddad packed the Juneteenth flag like it was a suit.

I carried the water. He carried the day.

The parade moved slower than the heat.

He didn't mind. I matched his pace.

A kid handed him a paper fan.

He handed it to me and kept waving.

We found shade under a live oak and split a red soda.

Same kind he bought me at ten.

He said, "This is the day we don't rush."

I finally heard him.

Walking home he let me carry the flag.

I carried it high enough for both of us.