Where I'm From

My Where I'm From

    I am from hard book covers

        from Stephen King and murder mysteries

    I am from floral curtains on the kitchen window

        (rustic, red, like leaves in the fall)

    I am from Chestnut trees

        scraped knees, old rope, and tire swing

    I’m from All Hallow’s Eve and ginger hair

        from Veronica Roxanne and Angela Charlene

   

I’m from unnecessary tears and hot head

        from the “i'm so proud” and the “watch your mouth”

    Grandma’s sanctity and mother’s sealed lips

    I'm from up and down Duncan and Avalon

        over and around David and Eighth

    From nicotine and cheap blackberry wine

    From the ladder Papaw took to get to the roof

        And every Sunday with pulpy orange juice

    Stored in the garage attic,

behind light up reindeer,

White lace sleeps in clear bins under stacks of photos,

containing young versions of worn faces.

I’m from pages upon pages of stacked memory books

containing generations of stories

Several chapters, countless volumes, a myriad of experiences

and many more to come