I am from baseball gloves,
From Nike and off spray,
I am from the Russian sage bush that sits by our front door
With its beautiful purple flowers,
That attracts too many bees to count,
From “Never give up” and “life isn’t fair”,
I am from church some days but baseball most,
I am from Columbia where I was born and grew up,
From salad and pasta which we eat on most occasions,
I’m from the upsetting death of my grandmother,
The cancer that surged through her,
And that left nothing behind,
I am from the pictures hidden in my hall closet,
On the top shelf so no one will know
Where our memories will stay forever.