At Fifty I Am Startled to Find I Am in My Splendor -- Sandra Cisneros

Something for the very last day of poetry month. This came in today's Poetry Foundation "Poem of the Day" email and resonated for reasons that may be obvious.

At Fifty I Am Startled to Find I Am in My Splendor
By Sandra Cisneros


These days I admit
I am wide as a tule tree.
My underwear protests.
And yet,

I like myself best
without clothes when
I can admire myself
as God made me, still
divine as a maja.
Wide as a fertility goddess,
though infertile. I am,
as they say,
in decline. Teeth
worn down, eyes burning
yellow. Of belly
bountiful and flesh
beneficent I am. I am
silvering in crags
of crotch and brow.
Amusing.

I am a spectator at my own sport.
I am Venetian, decaying splendidly.
Am magnificent beyond measure.
Lady Pompadour roses exploding
before death. Not old.
Correction, aged.
Passé? I am but vintage.

I am a woman of a delightful season.
El Cantarito, little brown jug of la Lotería.
Solid, stout, bottom planted
firmly and without a doubt,
filled to the brim I am.
I said the brim.

* * * * * *

May we all be startled by our own splendour.

{rf}