Infinite Sky

Tiny thing,
Pink-faced and cradle-capped,
Swaddled in a blanket
that reeks of smoke.

Your bright smile ricochets
around the white walls,
Over the heads of tired-looking health visitors,
The piles of paperwork and baby wipes.

I watch while you are weighed,
While you are measured and checked,
While the social worker sits
and stares vacantly out the window.

I wish you everything,
I wish you the infinite sky;
I wish you more than you have got.