I am from screaming tea kettles,
from Johnson’s baby lotion and Crayola crayons.
I am from the house with the big magnolia out front,
white and wooden, sky blue shutters.
It felt like a warm hug.
I am from the long itchy grass
the white tulips
who’s dainty petals seemed to dance like ballerinas in the summer showers.
I’m from the yearly measurements on the wall by the fridge and the brown-eyed girls.
From Paula and Sissy and Luna
I’m from the see-you-soons,
the love you mores,
be gentle with your momma, and
the don't come back till you finish everything on your plate.
I’m from the Catholic school memorizations
the bible school songs... I can sing them all.
I’m from the heart of New Orleans… tride and true
crunchy top of bread pudding and balsamic bell peppers.
From the scars from the scissors on my mom’s leg
and my scars to match hers.
The leftmost cabinet under the TV
packed with books and
filled with the best of times with the most important people.
I am from those very days,
each one pieced together to create a story like no other.
A tree that continues to bloom.
A new branch every few years
which only add to the great story of us.