Where I’m from

I’m from the wood of my old building blocks
From the salty, sandy dark waters of the ocean
(Cool, glistening
It smelled like a hot summer day)
I’m from the big oak tree,
The old dodge ram truck
Whose brown rim fell to the ground as rust






























































I’m from the loose rock steps,
From Donna and Thomas
I’m from the slow moving leafy brook
And the deep muddy frog pond,
From “Melainy pie” and “My little girl”
I’m from Roy and Kelly
Them of course I will love no matter how far apart they are



















































I’m from grandma’s still standing swing set,
Fresh creamy clam chowder
And hot chocolate on the frigid days
From my dog Precious that died to young
And the stitched gashes my dad got from the kicked blade
I’m from the long walks in the woods with my brother
He always looked after me well
From bike riding through the many nature paths of the cemetery
Maybe I could visit the much missed in our family there
I’m from the rush of the ski slopes
(Fast, cold,
It felt like a zooming race)
I’m from the green plastic box in my closet
Where I keep the well missed smiles and friendly faces
And most of all,
I’m from a little old house,
In a quiet sweet neighborhood
In a town and state called
Exeter, Rhode Island.