I’m from cold weather, and people colder themselves.
I’m from a not so big red house, covered by a shady tree
With foliage all around and bumble bees sucking up all of their precious juices
I’m from loud noise, and music in the background
I’m from snow that was ten stories above me
I’m from narrow streets and fast cars people rushing everywhere they go
I’m from the smell of fried chicken, corn bread, collard greens, and blacked eyed peas on a Sunday morning
I’m from watching cartoons Saturday morning
I’m from waiting till it is zero dark thirty
Playing outside till the street light come one
Hearing my parents calling my name from the screen door
I’m from a green field that is 100 yards long
Did not know what sport that was, asked my parent’s questions like “why are those people running up and down the field like that?”
I’m from the sewage oiled fumes filling the air from factories
I’m from a small town surrounded by a big apple
Dandelions growing between the concrete
Where opportunities did not come often
I am far away now living in a land of milk and honey, plentiful for my whole family