The Box

On a shelf
Way up high
There is a box
With butterflies.

'By Invitation Only!'
The box exclaims
The things in there
She can't explain.

Once a year
She takes it down
Peers inside
What is that sound?

Of grief and loss
A mother cries
Leave her be
Don't ask her why.

All that's left
Sweet baby boy
Pictures of you
They bring no joy.

In her arms
You slipped away
In her heart
You'll always stay.

Alexander Lee, September 13, 1995