I am from slowly trickling mountain streams
From rocks and dirt piled higher than the Eiffel Tower
To acorns that are like riding on roller blades
And a doe and her fawn moving gently through a dancing meadow

I am from Gramma Betty’s silver watch
Glistening in the sun
From mirrors upon mirrors in every room
To the many jingling bracelets I wear on my wrists

I am from the sunny downtown bike rides with Grampa
And from the click clack of the latch that keeps dad from falling off the ladder
I’m from the white board my mom uses to stay organized
And from the squeaky rocking chairs I sat in while Grampa Ralph sang

I am from “hugs and kisses xoxo, Gram and Papa”
To Dad’s “watch a pot it never boils”
And Grampa Ralph’s
“Itsy bitsy spider next time won’t you sing with me?”

I am from baby goats bounding alongside me
And roads rougher than an angry ocean
I am from the forests of New England
That spread for miles
From walking the streets
And seeing nothing but smiles