My Grandaughter Poem by David McLansky

They lowered the babe into my lap;
Careful with her ties and snaps,
Her naked legs, startled, churning;
My eyes welled up, my throat was burnng.

I bowed my head, overwhelmed, uncertain,
I choked with feelings at this tiny burden;
I loved this child, suddenly certain
How I wished there was a curtain.

That this might be a private moment
I cried, groaning with embarrassment;
I sobbed, my head bent with tears,
An old man, senile, acting weird.

But there was wisdom in my madness;
I was overflowing with ancestral gladness;
Here was the second seed of my bones
The past and present writ in stone.

I tickled her bare wrinkled feet,
I thanked her mother for this moment sweet.
In this child I would live on,
In my Granddaughter my life prolonged.