I am from dance shoes,
From Converse and Vans.
I am from the sparkle on the counter,
(Clean, fresh,
Making grandma’s with asthma cough.)
I am from the rose bush,
The distant, cattle filled plains.
Whose thorns will prick you,
And the cattle will teach you to watch your step.
I am from holiday dinners and big-boned people.
I am from candied yams and fried pecans,
From Kevin, Michelle, and the “Brady Bunch.”
From a place where dreaming big is the only option and sight only comes from the right.
I am from the slightly Christian family, from Oklahoma and Iowa, smelling of chicken and freshly baked cookies.
From the grandfather who broke his back, the hypnotized, criss-crossed family
That enjoys crossword puzzles and black coffee.
I am from where there’s always pictures that go up but never go down.