I see the car seat being readied,
Which house am I to visit?
Which bed for sleep tonight?
Which toys?
Which clothes?
What food?

It’s all for fairness,
I’m to be enjoyed by all.
Mother, father, grandparents,
They all have a right to me.

I have no choice,
That was taken away.
At eighteen I’ll get it back,
But that seems a long time -
To be without a home.

David H. Millar, Musings on an Almost Granddaughter



Comments are closed.