Magic of sight — Ordinary eyeglasses, wire frames,
rectangular lenses perfect for looking over with raised brows.
They didn’t sparkle or shine.
There was nothing magical about them
and yet
they must have been
Magic.
With them, my grandmother could see things others could not.
My self-doubt, my good intentions,
the masks others thought were flesh.
Grandma’s glasses were dream telescopes
and soul…
