I’m from the
The sweet sound
Of music,
And of rusted springs,
And the creaky hardwood floor
Of the old TV room.

I’m from the black and white tiles
Of the resilient, wood-walled bathroom
And the sill
no one could reach as a child

I’m from raspberries
In the backyard,
Sweeter than anything
Because it’s home

I’m from the warm water of the lake in Vermont
Just in front of the cabins,

The warm waters of  Severn,
To the icy, freezing cold water of Buzzards Bay

The dog howling,
And the cat purring
The cabin in the woods
And the familiar sound
of a train pulling up to the station
in Pennsylvania 

But most of all
It is the red sail flapping in the wild on its mast
That reminds me of who I am.