I am from teetering towers of books everywhere,
From bamboo chopsticks laying in neat rows,
From the flat screen TV with a spider-web cracks, never used.
I am from fallen flowers, white as snow and
A lonely brick on the patio, throw over our fence at our window, a many nights ago,
From an ancient broom made with twigs left by the previous owner.
I am from an old-fashioned lamp post with its flickering light and
A frail ginger tabby sunbathing in our yard.
I am from my aunt who takes me to the movies,
From my forever loving mom.
I am from “Hurry up!” and
“Do your homework!”
I am from steamed whole tilapia marinated in soy sauce, falling off the bone with a single touch,
From stir-fry quail with crunchy onions and
Emerald green Chinese broccoli smothered in savory plum sauce.
I am from the conversation formed during family gatherings with these treats,
From hidden smiles and tears.
I am from the time I had back then but never appreciated and
The time I want now but know, I will never get.
I am from my black leather, silver latched diary holding, shielding my hidden feelings.
I am from more tears than smiles.
I am from the comforts that nestle between pages of my novels, and
The memories that linger there too.
I am from these places, things, and ideas.