I am from the third

house on the block,
in a town with as many
dogs as people.
I am from catching that
first fish with the help of my Dad,
to only help him years later.

I ate black olives by the can
and red Jello cake for every birthday.
I was that little blonde doll
and the Barbies that now sit in the attic,
waiting to be played with.

I am from the smell of the doctor’s office and
being smothered in deadly second hand smoke.
I am from the steady hum of the orange four-wheeler’s engine,
to the sound of three excited dogs
skittering across the hardwood floor.

I saw those sad eyes looking at me
that belonged to a yellow lab,
that was given up for adoption because
“They couldn’t have dogs at their new apartment”.
I watched flag football games
to high school injuries,
dreams flushed down the drain.

I am from the green house
on Cherry street,
that everyone has a story about.
I drew that favorite blue flower
oil pastel picture in 7th grade,
and the day five years ago,
that I’ll never forget.

I am from a long line of nurses,
with the dream to become another.
I grew up in a house with two kids,
robbed of a third,
and wanting so many more.
I am from the laughter so loud,
the tears so silent,
and the prayers that somehow
get heard.