The Miracle Cycle

In her arms an infant wails as my daughter walks the hall soothing her new babe, and the miracle unfolds. . . Her wee one's pangs will vanish. Soon enough, brown hair, like the child's older sister's, will lighten up and lengthen, and sleepy eyes will brighten! All that is strange to the newborn's searching eyes will then become familiar, as seeing, then testing, the small girl goes from crawling, then to toddling. All too soon, full grown, she'll walk the hall herself, a young new mother comforting an infant in her arms. For PD's Free Verse form Poetry Contest