Where I am From
Today's post is an inspiration from the wonderful blog Searching Sophia's Pockets. Credit to Will O'Brien for the post about accepting and appreciating where you come from!
Where I’m From
I am from the 64-pack of Crayola crayons,
from Schlafly Hefeweizen and snap bracelets.
I am from the wasp-filled air conditioning vents.
I am from the dogwood tree, the Meramec River.
I am from thrift store hunting and using too much tape on Christmas presents,
from Lilian LaVerne and Ruby Savatha and Grandpa E.
I am from the music on the front porch and sisters singing in hesitant harmony.
From “the fourth commandment!” and everything happens for a reason.
I am from praying the Rosary every Tuesday on brown, duck-taped kneelers, the diamond stained-glass windows leaking warm air.
I'm from Kansas City and Cherokee-German-French-Italian
from corn soufflé and calico beans.
From Pop Toe Wart Knee Bang and the Cardinals on TV,
from Gomez Corn Mouthface Booboo, and my mother’s hands at the sewing machine.
I am from the wall of photo albums above the piano on June Avenue,
from the sunroom with Grandma’s clothes in the closet,
from the jewelry box with an engagement story,
from the water-tight Tupperware box of journals
and the cardboard on pallets among the basement toads.
I’m the beaded lizard hanging in the oak tree
made in a Hawaiian contest prize, blue bedroom.
I’m from my people,
where I learned who to be.
Where I’m From
I am from the 64-pack of Crayola crayons,
from Schlafly Hefeweizen and snap bracelets.
I am from the wasp-filled air conditioning vents.
I am from the dogwood tree, the Meramec River.
I am from thrift store hunting and using too much tape on Christmas presents,
from Lilian LaVerne and Ruby Savatha and Grandpa E.
I am from the music on the front porch and sisters singing in hesitant harmony.
From “the fourth commandment!” and everything happens for a reason.
I am from praying the Rosary every Tuesday on brown, duck-taped kneelers, the diamond stained-glass windows leaking warm air.
I'm from Kansas City and Cherokee-German-French-Italian
from corn soufflé and calico beans.
From Pop Toe Wart Knee Bang and the Cardinals on TV,
from Gomez Corn Mouthface Booboo, and my mother’s hands at the sewing machine.
I am from the wall of photo albums above the piano on June Avenue,
from the sunroom with Grandma’s clothes in the closet,
from the jewelry box with an engagement story,
from the water-tight Tupperware box of journals
and the cardboard on pallets among the basement toads.
I’m the beaded lizard hanging in the oak tree
made in a Hawaiian contest prize, blue bedroom.
I’m from my people,
where I learned who to be.
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