I am from where the gateway

is a national park.

I am from where sports run the city,

where winning is a tradition for one team—  

and a new experience for the other.

I am from where everything is visible

at the top of the biggest arch in the world.

I come from sitting beside a pool, 

watching the fireworks burst above my head

I come from where people go to get custard

and forget about the lack luster of ice cream.

I come from the tradition of winning is 

instilled in everyone from the pros,

 to the children scoring the final

game winning goal in the driveway,

 as the imaginary clock rolls to zero.

I am from where friends go out on a lake

and carve through the tough clear ice.  From where

if there is open ice at the rink,

the boys go out and play 2 on 2.  From 

growing up, stick in hand, 

shooting pucks off the synthetic ice,

marking the post with an echoing clang.  From where,

getting hit by solid discs of vulcanized rubber is fun.