Sonogram: Grandchild at Eleven Weeks

The tail has disappeared and this shiverof lifeswallows. Withouthunger. Without thought.A translucent stub. A heartbeat.Elbows, knees, fingers sculptedfrom warm honeycomb.It is an emberwith its own fire. Blueprintof ear, eyebrow, soonnipples, minusculeliver. It willsquint, frown, yawnand keep on.When my son was bornhe opened his eyes and looked all around,no cry, so calm he could have beena plant slowly turningto the sun. Love!sharp as a defib. The kick of a horse.Now, someone the size of two olivesin a martini, tiny, skinny limbssticking out, is going toput on shoes and rushinto this treacherous world, dragging my heart.