Lately I have been thinking
How strange it is
That a human soul
Can rest in such small spaces
Like in five pounds
And thirteen ounces
Only eighteen inches long
Lately I have been thinking
How strange it is
That she is in the outside world
Not longer tucked in the womb
Her features more clear
Than what the ultrasound could capture
Lately I have been thinking
How strange it is
That she has heard what we sound like
Before we knew what she did
Her cries only as loud as her
Brand new lungs can take
Lately I have been thinking
How strange it is
To see my brother
Toting around a newborn daughter
Was he not just a moody teen the other day?
Now he is raising a family, getting married, working
And he is matured twenty times in just a blink
Lately I have been thinking
How strange it is
To see my mother holding
Her granddaughter
That will one day call her grandma
But right now that feels a little too soon
She has not a head full of grays
Or a face lined with proof of a long-lived life
Lately I have been thinking
How strange it is
To be an aunt
t.b.