Grandpa's News

Dad’s old toolbox, a jumble of things,

and then the leather, cracked and worn,

Grandpa’s wallet, forlorn,

still holding secrets, it seems.

Behind a faded photo, a clipping lay,

fragile as a moth's wing, yellowed with age.

Some forgotten local news, a single page,

about a game, or a small town’s display.

It smelled of paper, dust, and time gone by,

a silent story, tucked away so deep.

What small triumph did he wish to keep?

What memory did that old news imply?