A New Grandmother Wonders
You love your grandson,
this blue bundle in your arms.
There’s no doubt about that.
He has peaches for cheeks
and the sky’s in his eyes
but you love your son,
his father, a bit more.
You can see him still,
thirty years later,
straight in his high chair
saying his new word.
“Bugoo!” he’d yell, and
bang on his tray if he
wanted more butter and
another piece of toast.
Donal Mahoney
