Poem for my (second) grandson
Today
the price of petrol is up again
but you’re not going anywhere:
you lie
snug in your hospital crib,
visitors 3 to 8pm, Mother’s milk
on tap
and a wardrobe mistress to attend to
those messier moments. This
is life
on the outside.
Takes a little getting used to, I’ll admit.
A word in
your shell-like:
always own toys,
shine a light
on skeletons in
or out of the dark,
and make it a habit to sing in the bath.
From history, learn to create
the future.
Now, go forth.
I think you are ready.
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