In Memory Of Uncle Leon Poem by Roy William Gotaas

Resting in his armchair one Sunday afternoon
Uncle Leon dozed and chose to die.
I say ‘chose', for he'd lived through Auschwitz
And was a man who did things his own way,
In his own time, when he was ready.

To me, always his pitseleh,
He only ever made three faces:
One lifted eyebrow with vertical lines
At its inner end meant: 'What you doing, boy?
You think that's a good thing to do? '

Both eyebrows raised and the slightest
Downturn at the ends of his mouth said,
With no need for words,
'Go on, surprise me then! Show me 
Something I haven't seen already! '

And when I did surprise and please him,
The eyes would close, the head go back
And his mouth opening to a generous O,
Letting out gusts of coughing laughter and
'You've no idea how funny that is, little one! '

That Sunday when I saw him, silent & still,
It was the third expression that was set
And I wonder more and more, as I grow older,
What was it, Uncle Leon, at the last
You thought was such a joke?

*'pitseleh':  little one.



As published in Quadrant, March 2012.