To My Grandchild–by Barbara D. Holender

Little snail,
Can you hear me
with your new earbuds?
You wear my lifeprint sealed
within your see-through skin.

Your father scares your mother
with his anatomy book.
Next week you will be
big as my thumb,
all heart and brain.

What will you take of me
to ripen in your shell?
So much depends
on your selection.

You are bearing me
beyond my time alive