I am from looking in the fireplace glass
And falling down the stairs we don’t even have.
I am from keeping me out the kitchen,
And pulling my dogs tail, multiple times.
From a different hairstyle every day
And a little boy named JP
(or was it PJ?)

From incessant little Leapfrog
And going on adventures down the street.
I am from one dollar Honeydrippers
And you were only cool if you got the red ones.
I am from the big willow tree in the front yard,
Whose long stalks we used as swords, or lion tails
Depending on the weather.

I’m from a failed cupcake club
Where we only made cupcakes once.
From “Be home before the streetlights cut on!”
And the millions of games of tag we played
Where I never caught anyone.

From the final fight deep in the woods,
And the last meeting of the club.
Throwing away the books and pans,
And turning up my volume on the way home.

Final decisions were made.
The streets cut off, and so did the lights.
From JJ, and Anaya, and Brianna, and the two Kamerons.
From me.
The willow tree fell.