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Where I am From
I’m from a white ranch with blue shutters,
pictures of my brother and me along
the wall to the basement.
I’m from the sweet, vanilla scent roaming
the house, candle above the fireplace.
I’m from pulling my pink blankie
and putting on Mom’s lips when
she wasn’t looking.
I’m from hiding behind Dad when
strangers approach and talking quietly.
I’m from crying uncle and horsey rides
and the claw.
I’m from summer days.
Grandma and Grandpa’s pool.
I’m from belly flops, back flips and dives,
cousins competing for Grandma’s 10/10.
I’m from eating Rocky Rococo’s under the weeping willow,
and to cooling off on the pool steps with
Peanut Butter Cup concretes.
I’m from autumn days.
Hayrides at Basse’s collecting pumpkins,
burning, tingling sensation across my arms and legs.
Since when was I allergic to hay?
I’m from Tinkerbell and Peter Pan,
and Mickey and Minnie Mouse to
“only take 1.”
I’m from winter days.
Sledding behind my house,
warm hot chocolate with marshmallows
waiting to unthaw my frozen face.
I’m from warm sugar cookies—
snowmen, Christmas trees, and stars to
feeding Santa’s reindeer.
I’m from spring days.
Running down the shore of Lake Michigan,
waves tickling my ankles.
I’m from planting flowers with Mom to
biking with friends down windy paths.
I’m now from a green ranch with red shutters,
pictures of my brother and me no longer
along on the wall to the basement.
I’m now from the spicy, pumpkin scent roaming
the house, candles in the kitchen.
I’m now from sleeping with my pink blankie
and borrowing Mom’s lipstick.
I’m now from smiling when strangers
approach and talking confidently.
I’m still from crying uncle and horsey rides
and the claw.