I am from moving boxes

From mountains of the north and magnolias of the south

I am from the smooth barked swinging tree in Florida

And the red clay of Alabama

(staining easily

it looks like blood)

I am from the bittersweet of starting over

And the friends left behind.



I’m from the crashing waves of North Carolina

From the family reunions at the beach

I’m from “don’t sweat the small stuff” and “Move on towards the future”

I’m from Sunday school and Wednesday night church

From Jeremiah 29: 11

And he’s always there for me.



I’m from Mama to Nama, from Opa to Poppy

From fluffy mashed potatoes and sweet birthday cakes

From uncles always talking and my mom looking after us seven rowdy kids

I’m from my dad, who goes to war to keep the peace.



I’m from teddy bears and family games,

From late night whispers in bunk-beds

I am from the tubs of memories made

I am from those moments

A leaf changing colors with the seasons

Time can only strengthen the bond between the branch and me.