Origin

By
I am from
the harsh biting wind
on a chilly night
in the “Windy City”
to the thick humid air
on a sweltering day
Of the populated Shanghai.

I am from
the pine smell
of sticky amber rosin,
the dynamic melody
expelled from
the wooden keys
of a piano.

I am from
an old dusty pair
of tiny pale pink ballet shoes –
a memory of what used to be
to the hues
of oil paints
pure and brilliant.

I am from
the enticing smell
of sticky white rice
releasing swirls
wisps of smoke,
the clean wooden smell
of brand-new books –
an adventure contained
in crisp flawless pages

I am from everywhere
from a time
of a worn baby blankie
to the plastic colored Legos
and finally to the futuristic metal iPod.





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Anna-Akua said...
Mar. 25, 2011 at 3:37 pm

i love it! its an i am poem..right? i wrote one before, but not nearly as delicate and profound as urs!

 

 
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