Where I'm From

By
I’m from Kool-Aid stains above my lips,
From slip and slides and being outside,
I am from the dandelions, the grass that surrounds them.
I am from the spaghetti and brown eyes, from Grandma Jean and Grandpa Jack.
I am from the melt in your mouth cinnamon rolls and the Thanksgiving dinners,
From “if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times.”
I am from church camp every summer along with youth group on Wednesday nights.
I’m from Waukesha and Italy, salads and pizza.
From the times that have been spent jumping into leaves with cousins, the ladder that rested upon the tree and the infamous had that Grandpa Jack would wear when he went fishing.
I am from the scrapbooks stacked to the ceiling and the scattered pictures.





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