Atavistic Optics

(Originally composed Monday, August 13, 2007)

My niece has funny-shaped eyes like her dad (my brother). I wrote a poem for her when she was born. I call it 'Atavistic Optics'.

Once upon a time
A long time ago
Lived a man of brown
With eyes likes yours.

We know because
His son, you see,
He told his own
"Son," said he,

"Eyes of squint,
Shiny as shine
A curious light
Brown grapes on vine."

In that land
Of people of brown
Eyes like that
Never had been found

But the man whose eyes
Stood out like so
He passed them not
To his son, we know.

And yet once more
Those eyes were hid
As that son had sons
And those sons had kids.

But one of those kids
From one of those sons
To the West he flew
With eyes like none.

Eyes that you
Forever will hold,
Eyes that are
A hundred years old.