|A Magnified Life|
first, a pair of black-rimmed kid specs,
then, a duck hunter’s telescopic sight at twenty,
swapped out for high powered binoculars at thirty,
to watch birds he appeared to love
more than humans.
thought of my uncle, the “bachelor”
a word whispered behind cupped hands
as if bachelor equaled “undesirable,”
but in his case simply meant
he hadn’t met my aunt yet.
with a fresh, squishy loaf of Challah,
a warm, welcome offering from the bakery
on his way to the subway station;
it wouldn’t be until we moved to the ‘burbs
that he required a car to make it to dinner on time.
always quick to share his views on issues
from the best flower arranging method,
to whether Communism is more desirable
then Democracy, because it lands us all
on the same economic playing field.
mellowing out his need for constant debate,
choosing a thoughtful partner with multiple views
and interests, including his beloved bird watching;
her lens, attached to the front of her camera,
serving to chronicle their exploration.
uncle suffered his fatal decline at eighty-three,
tumbling from his wheelchair while birding,
a rather fitting end for one who led weekend
birding trips for old and new ornithologists,
a founding member of Bird Observer magazine.
Black Lives Matter demonstrators tied themselves
to barrels in protest, blocking the highway,
preventing some from saying their goodbyes.
On the way home, we couldn’t help but wonder−
through what lens would he have viewed such rebellion.