I am from fiction novels,
plush blankets on top of crisp sheets.
I am from catching butterflies in the back field.
(vibrant, fluttering,
wild and free.)
I am from creaky pine floors
the Kimball piano
whose keys were chipped and broken
from years of playing Fur Elise.
I’m from Stephanie and Jack Kiefer,
I’m from the goofballs
the intellectuals
from “Come here!” and “Settle down!”
I’m from turquoise walls
with brightly colored posters
from concerts and festivals.
I’m from bread and butter,
homemade chocolate chip cookies and sweet tea.
From the scrape on my knee
the typical battle scar,
the oval shaped mark on my body
to remind me of my rambunctious spirit.
Shelves filled with frames,
pictures faded from the sun,
a group of familiar faces
that bring me happiness
I am from those moments of joy--
candids that captured  real feelings--
my memories are the colors in the painting of life.