She lies all wrapped up A bundle of sleep With cheeks softer than a bird’s down. Her eyes open and then close; Her face works into a limpid gaze.. And then into a red-faced frown.

Who is this girl, who has entered my heart Though bringing her into this world Brought my own child so much pain? She’s not my child, but the child of my child… But I feel motherhood all over again.

She opens her mouth and searches around; I hand her back to her mother– I never imagined, when I had my child, That she would herself produce a precious Another.

Mother and father sleep in exhaustion, Pain and worry are slowly past. The grandchild lies in my arms; It’s amazing that across a generation I can still succumb to this baby’s charms.