The Connecticut Twin

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

I dreamed I had a twin up north, more twin

Than not, not quite conjoined and not the same;

. . . Identical in soul.  Loves underpin

Our brotherhood.  The region overcame

Our cleaving separation just as soon

As I crossed past the line.  Slight slants of hills

And slopes as if a pheasant-colored rune

Plunged deep inside me, pheasant-vibrant chills

Inside my chest said, “Poet, you and I

Are finally conjoined as always we

Had guessed, as perfect as the Pilgrim sky

That Brewster, Bradford ever hoped to see.

  I melded utterly with you that day,

    Inside New England’s autumn-slanting ray.

~ Phillip Whidden