I am from Royal Oak, Michigan,

Home of the house on Marywood,

Where the Nikes and Adidas pile up at the door,

And seafood on Sundays is tradition,

I am from a street filled with trees,

And a fridge stuffed with grapes,

Bananas sitting on the counter,

Apples laying in the basket,

I am from the scent of coffee in the morning,

Pretzels crunching at night,

Salami sandwiches at lunchtime,

I am from dishes never in the sink,

But towels suspended in the rooms,

With clothes piled up in the basement,

I am from squirrels throughout the yard,

Bees in the flowers,

Bushes overgrowing in the garden,

I am from three brothers,

Two sisters,

Two moms,

Two dads,

I am from a ride to the cottage on the 4th of July,

Fireworks exploding over the lake,

Towels buried by the sand,

I am from trips to the cider mill in the fall,

Swatting the bees away from your Donuts and Cider,

Picking apples from the trees