i came across an “i am from” poem at owlhaven and thought i would try it. if you would like to create your own you can find the format at fragments from floyd. poetry is not a gift i have, but here it is…
i am from
i am from fig trees outside of bedroom windows, from k swiss tennis shoes, and sail boats.
i am from an old ranch house, fix-it ourself renovations, a lucked into color of combined paint remnants, and rip roaring fires.
i am from the buzzing bees in a hydrangea bush that separates yards, and the hiding places of a giant pecan tree.
i am from spring break camping trips with family friends, holidays with cousins seen at most once a year, and domino games. from con alberta and wilma lafaye and races and daniels and mckenzies and chandlers and grigsbys.
i am from the dullness of depression and the hope of optimism.
from “always save some of your money” and “if that grows together you’ll die”.
i am from Jesus loves me this i know, from salvation through Christ and God’s forgiveness from sin, and learning the hard way that the “little c” church offers no forgiveness.
i’m from generations of texans, from chicken ‘n’ dumplins, banana puddin’, and a cold bottom being the price paid for hand cranked ice cream, from sweet tea and blonde coffee
from a life preserving fear of a boundary that drew an older brother to live on the other side and a twin brother to see if it would stretch.
i am from quilts that have gone missing, 35mm slides in a box, pictures stored in photo albums and shoe boxes and from generations assembled with stories to share.