"It's presbyopia—old lady eyes. . . ."
That's what her friend told her, and she marveled
at the optics of her age: years distilled
her moon blue eyes into binoculars.
She read the goldfinch in flight two yards over,
while John's first chapter was a shimmering blur.
By some miracle, she felt a lifting,
lost the tyranny and weight of near things,
her eyes drawn to a brightness hovering now
just beyond earth's endless curved horizon.
Julie Sumner is The Behemoth’s poetry editor, who recently learned of her own Presbyopia, or age-induced farsightedness. Read more of her work at her blog, windowonwords.com.
