The morning nods its head at me. I rise,
and wonder what the day will bring: Surprise?
Or recollection of the dream I had?
What column will it go in? Good? Or bad?

The polished windows show me gray outside,
and I feel cottoned stuffiness abide.
I’ll get my little ones at noon, a treat
each hour and minute from the time I greet

them. How can grandchildren bring so much joy?
I’ve one of each, a girl, one teenaged boy.
She loves to read, play soccer, swim her pool.
He runs, wears faux-mo style of hair, is cool.

I held him minutes after he was born.
I saw her come into the world that morn.
These two have grown in dignity and charm,
and for them I would give up my right arm…

and so much more.