The crape myrtle in front of his parents house
together with several strains of palmatum acer
whose twigs had been broken by his childhood-favorite ball
still somehow grew up with him
The swing carried his tender laughter
lifted by the white oak once bearded his tiny footprints
Will they remember him

The toy car he had used as a skateboard
sitting in a dust-covered corner of the attic
accompanied by a broken water gun
carrying his innocent dreams
The afternoon sunlight covering the empty dinning table
as gentle as it was on his face dozens of snowfalls ago
Will they remember him

The basketball used to hop around him
witnessed numerous of his rejoicing moments
now being wiped as new, inflated every once a while
sitting on the bookshelf
aside the medals and badges
internally telling the stories of honor and courage
in a voice we may never hear with our ears
Will they remember him

The swallows making nest under the eaves
of his old apartment
whose injured ancestor years ago had been carefully held in his hands
cured, fed, and set free
The quiet hybrid dog who has met many generations of this swallow family
after being rescued by him from a trash can
Will they remember him

The scarf he had worn for many winters
now tightly hugging the neck of this shepherd boy
The compass he received as twelfth birthday gift
now treasured in an orphan's pocket
guarding every gunfire-lightened, terrified night
Will they remember him

The helmet and bulletproof vest
on which painted camouflage has been worn and fading
tasted his sweat in many places of the world
The dogtag polished by his burly chest
The cloudless sky reflected from his wide-opened eyes
The sands and stones
witnessed thousands of years of human self-redemption
now lying under him
dyed by the dark scarlet bursting out from his motionless body

**They will remember him.