.

Across from here, some streets away,

a grandchild I have never seen.

Last night born. Her mother sleeps.

It’s early afternoon. In a car I read,

my sleeping wife – awaiting…

Grey clouds – stillness: A welcome

to the world. A message – yes, come and

visit. We walk through streets, cross parks,

open the door – and there she is.

Mother and daughter. I take a photo.

A new world from the old. Father,

joyful, compliments her:

A days labour – and now this.

No name, she says, promising.

.