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I Am From Toy Cars and Monsters

I AM FROM

crumbly, yellowed 1st grade schoolwork

dog-eared and well-worn Harry Potter books

lightly scratched Beatles CDs

a full collection of Sailor Moon movies, upright and proud on the shelf

I AM FROM

dusty dirt tracks made by toy cars

leaf-filled, murky pools in winter time

a faded sunflower bench that creaks with weight

shady lookout spots atop the branches of the best climbing tree around

I AM FROM

the Grandfather Tree, gnarled and welcoming

glens pierced with cascading sunlight

horrifying yet imagined ghost sightings

prime sledding hilltops slick with winter’s blanket

I AM FROM

squelchy three-cheese macaroni

salty buttered artichokes

dollops of Thanksgiving cranberry sauce

golden bubbling sparkling cider

I AM FROM

my diary scribblings stashed under the bed, guarded by childhood monsters

cartoons scrawled over math class algebra

now indecipherable notes invisible ink

overflowing memory box containing the history of a friendship

I AM FROM

a childhood as unique and innocent as anyone else’s

like a snowflake that lands on a window, pristine and white

that eventually has to melt and trickle down

ready for what’s next.



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