My Great-granddaughter's Morning?

I had to wait almost five years for another great-granddaughter. Only two girls among six great grandsons, eight, counting two older step-great grandsons. So Brynley's birth in March was extra sweet. With three older brothers, you might suspect she is going to be 'Daddy's Girl' which is why a poem I read this morning made me think so much of her and her daddy.

My Daughter's Morning by David Swanger

"My daughter's morning streams
over me like a gang of butterflies
as I, sour-mouthed and not ready
for the accidents I expect

of my day, greet her early:
her sparkle is as the edge of new
ice on leafed pools, while I
am soggy, tepid; old toast.

Yet I am the first version
of later princes; for all my blear
and bluish jowl I am welcomed
as though the plastic bottle

I hold were a torch and 
my robe not balding terry.
For her I bring the day; warm
milk, new diaper, escapades;

she lowers all bridges and
sings to me most beautifully
in her own language while
I fumble with safety pins.

I am not made young
by my daughter's mornings;
I age relentlessly.

Yet I am made to marvel
at the durability of newness
and the beauty of my new one."

(For my granddaughter Katrina, great-granddaughter Brynley and especially her Daddy, Brad.)