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Where I'm From

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I am from the rope-torn to threads hanging from the Oak tree,

where my sister and I swung.
From carving pumpkins for the seeds
and making our own cardboard dice costumes.
I am from leaves raining from the trees
and disappearing in piles.

Winter
I am from nights of sledding
with bright red cheeks.
From skiing at Sunburst and watching my sister fly into splits,
sliding down the bunny hill.
I am from watching out the window
waiting to see Santa and his reindeer.

Spring
I am from breathtaking suicides,
and running till my legs are noodles.
From bus rides filled with singing throwbacks
after getting a win.
I am from being overwhelmed by the golden-pink sunrise—
so much more than skies of blue.

Summer
I am from games of headless horseman
and screaming I wake up the neighbors.
From losing Monopoly games,
but learning the value of money in the process.
I am from wearing a helmet twice the size of my head
And racing on homemade mini four wheeler paths.




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