Where I'm From

I am from green trees and rolling hills,
From pounds of pollen in the spring
And shiny icy streets in the winter.
I am from afghans crafted with love by my great-grandmother,
From enormous family gatherings
Where I don't know a soul.
("Oh honey, she's your 4th cousin, once removed!")
I am from impromptu soccer games in the cul-de-sac
With the neighborhood kids who know I had no skills to speak of,
But let me play anyway.
I am from the gaggle of girls who acted out
Dramatic stories with our barbies
Every summer afternoon
On my porch.
I am from long-winded, embellished family stories,
Passed down from generation to generation,
Firmly embedded in the community of my forefathers,
Always with some humor added.
I am from music of all sorts,
Whether instrumental or vocal,
Classical or jazz-tinged,
All notes, tones and pitches streaming through the house.
I am from family dinners and family home evenings,
Family movie nights and games,
And daddy-daughter dates.
I am from love, faith, and nurturing,
And I am grateful for where I'm from,
And want to carry these things on.

This was a writing exercise inspired by Tiffany and this poem.

1 comment:

Teresa said...

Really good ... makes me want to write where I'm from too ... scary.