Where I am from

I am from bird feeders,
from Seven’s Paint and Saw Saws.
I am from the hours spent quenching my thirst for fun in the neighbors pool.
I am from the Hydrangeas,
the Magnolia Tree hiding away our tree house from prying eyes.

I am from the tile floor and dedication,
from John and Elizabeth and Crabbe.
I am from the never ending to do list and “discussion” of today’s events.

From the tidbits and have knots.
I am from the pews and the banging of the drums,
never leaving those doors until two past noon.

I’m from the Michigan Tundra and the far reaches of the globe,
ugali and chile.
From the surgery on the kitchen table with my grandmother’s anatomy book
to the house and the missing finger.

I am from the closets, cupboards, and trunks overflowing with slides and photos.
Taken from the eccentric grandparents,
crazed aunts and distant uncles,
to the smothering, yet adoring parents.

Each holding a precious memory of a time far from the present.

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