Self-Portrait

By Chase Twichell b. 1950 Chase Twichell
I know I promised to stop
talking about her,
but I was talking to myself.
The truth is, she’s a child
who stopped growing,
so I’ve always allowed her
to tag along, and when she brings
her melancholy close to me
I comfort her. Naturally
you’re curious; you want to know
how she became a gnarled branch
veiled in diminutive blooms.
But I’ve told you all I know.
I was sure she had secrets,
but she had no secrets.
I had to tell her mine.

Chase Twichell, "Self Portrait" from Dog Language. Copyright © 2005 by Chase Twichell.  Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press. www.coppercanyonpress.org




Source: Poetry (January 2005).

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This poem originally appeared in the January 2005 issue of Poetry magazine

January 2005
 Chase  Twichell

Biography

Chase Twichell was born in New Haven, Connecticut, and has lived for many years in the Adirondacks. A practicing Buddhist, she is the author of several books of poetry, and her work often reflects her spiritual practice. Introducing her collection The Snow Watcher (1998) to readers of the Washington Post, poet and critic Robert Pinsky describes the poems as “full of sharp observation, both of the world and herself, unsentimental . . .

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Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Living, Marriage & Companionship, Sorrow & Grieving, Relationships, Men & Women

POET’S REGION U.S., New England

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