Once upon a dreary day,
a teacher directed me to dredge up
who I am.

I pondered: am I prepared
to paste the past together as a puzzle?;
is that who I am?

Or perhaps,
my traits piece me, and how I am perceived.

I am a dark-haired, defiant damsel,
diligent, devoted, and demanding.
Who has the desire to achieve
and who is deemed [by her mom] to be dramatic.

I enjoy enveloping myself
with the eloquent escape of literature,
and am exhilarated
by exceptional, entrancing music.

But who am I?

I was delivered in December,
a daughter to a dedicated doctor and determined attorney,
both delighted at my arrival.
Much of who they are, is who I am.

A dispute over a dangling swing
deliberately broke my nose at age six
and left me distressed
at potentially disastrous situations.

At age 12, a journey to Israel
to jubilate my bat mitzvah
bound me to my Jewish heritage.
I am jittery at first, but jocund at the end.
That is how I am when faced with a fearsome project.

But who am I?

As once was said:
“That is so. And so what?
Now what?
What is to be is up to me.”