Poem: A swirl of one’s own

In the ten days since you arrived,
We’ve heard you are like us.

Her father’s chin,
her mother’s ears.
When she’s angry,
she fits right in,
On the maternal side.

Forgotten uncles now
show their shadows.
In your absurdly tiny face.

But that beautiful swirl
On your perfect head.
Who did it come from?

You made it yourself.
Nobody else, quite has it
exactly so.