Poem: The Microscope

Anton Leeuwenhoek (layu-wen-hook) was Dutch.

He sold pincushions, cloth, and such.

The waiting dry goods gathered dust.

He worked, instead of tending store,

At grinding special lenses for

A microscope. Some of the things

He looked at were:

                               mosquites’ wings,

the hairs of sheep, the legs of lice,

the skin of people, dogs, and mice;

ox eyes, spiders’ spinning gear,

fishes’ scales, a little smear

of his own blood,

                                  and best of all,

the unknown, busy, very small

bugs that swim and bump and hop

inside a simple water drop.

Impossible! Most Dutchmen said.

This Anton’s crazy in the head.

We ought to ship him off to Spain.

He says he’s seen a housefly’s brain.

He says the water that we drink

Is full of bugs. He’s mad, we think!

They called him dumkopf, which means dope.

That’s how we got the microscope.

*by Maxine Kumin