I wondered if anybody could help me find a poem. I used it a few years ago and now can't find it nor remember the poet. It is a really descriptive poem about a Grandmother. I think it may have been called Gran. It refers to her world shrinking to a foxhole and compares her lips to the tiny cracks on a porcelain cup. I think the poet was female and relatively well known. If anybody recognises it from these few clues I would be very grateful.