He drives in grief to grandma's home,
The place he always loved to roam.
For decades now, he has been gone,
But death has claimed her life at dawn.
When he arrives, a crowd has thronged
To grieve for her, who had belonged.
And then he joins the tears that flow
As he absorbs the heavy blow.
They talk about the times they shared
And how they felt so unprepared.
But now that she has breathed her last,
They look for comfort in the past.
Recalling all his wondrous years,
He steps away from all his peers.
His eyes are drawn to photo frames
That now preserve undying names.
In thought, he walks into her room,
Where he had played in days of bloom.
And there, beside his grandma's bed,
Remained his box of faded red.
He lifts the lid, then reaches in
And finds the boy that he had been.
And now, like then, he hugs the toy
His grandma made to bring him joy.