I am from my grandparents house,
from
the
cozy
handmade
log
cabin
at
the
end
of
the
road.
I’m from where the silky creek and asperous rocks
shuffle in their footsteps.
I’m from the rambunctious laughter
and
merciful sunrise.
I’m from the dark shade of trees,
from fog and sweet candies
mocking me.
I am from the creaky wooden floorboards
that have seen a million steps
of cumbersome boots hiking about.
I’m from the popping fireplace
making my back incinerate
and smoky, burning wood
  warming the house.
I’m from playing Monopoly, Yahtzee
and Old Maid,
from Going bankrupt,
obtaining Full Houses,
and choosing the Old Maid card.
I am from losing and winning.

I’m from the beeping oven, mashed potatoes,
and fluffy pancakes,
from the luscious candy, airy cupcakes,
and chocolate chip cookie cake.
I am from the woods with no shortage of trees,
from Umpa and Grammy,
Danielle and Raeleigh,
and my siblings.
I’m from staying up late
whispering in the shadowy living room
and laughing in the rumbling automobile.
I’m from sausage and cheese pizza
and frigid boiled eggs,
from sticky sweet cantaloupe
and charcoal porksteak.
I’m from Wolfie howling in the middle
of the night,
Little Bit e-onnning
and cats lapping their frosty milk.
I’m from corn being mangled off the cob
and crisp tater tots and crunchy bacon.
I am from Umpa’s Church
where we read the Bible
worship
and pray,
grasping each other’s
delicate
hands.
I am from temperate cinnamon rolls and pastries,
from the wilderness outside.
I am from my grandparents house,
from
the
cozy
handmade
log
cabin
at
the
end
of
the
road.