Because your photograph
because your face
is a disguise
I can’t know what you feel
eyes focused elsewhere,
mouth half-closed
Thoughts invisible
date and occasion
unknown
A tatted lace collar
on a gray serge dress
or maybe the dress
was blue or violet
or even puce
I can’t tell
Perhaps newly pregnant
maybe delighted
or in despair
New eggs growing
in an invisible fetus
to become my grandmother
who will carry my mother
and all her eggs
who will birth me
who now contemplates
this late nineteenth century
black and white portrait
from a photography studio
which almost certainly
no longer exists
in downtown Chicago
or anywhere else
but I do exist here
Penelope Scambly Schott is a past recipient of the Oregon Book Award for Poetry. She lives in the small town of Dufur, Oregon (population: 635) and writes about Dufur and everything else. She teaches workshops in Dufur and she and her husband host poetry readings in Portland. Recent books include ON DUFUR HILL, SOPHIA AND MISTER WALTER WHITMAN (co-written with her dog Sophia), and her newly published WAVING FLY SWATTERS AT ANGELS.
