Where I’m From*

*Inspired by George Ella Lyon and Sara K Ahmed

Another revision…

I’m from a Lutheran Swede and a New York Jew,
From hard bread, herring and liver glop,
I’m from “tack för maten” and “oy gevalt.”
I’m a mutt.

I’m from a chewed-up ball, 
A New Haven souvenir,
I’m from photo-fed memories 
And “the man upstairs.”

I’m from a mimosa tree at the top of a hill, 
With feathery leaves and cottony blooms.
I’m from MLK and RFK,
The hopes and the hate of ‘68.

I’m from piano practices shirked 
and pop flies shagged.
I'm from Hondo homers, Unser snags
and loyalty to underdogs.

I’m from traipsing up trails and Deep Woods Off,
Tripping on roots and gasping for air,
I’m from filling canteens in mountain streams,
Then spreading arms wide on a rocky peak.

I’m from a date at a diner,
To artichoke feasts.
I’m from adoption angels
And bed-rest miracles.

I’m from a Hazel on the tube
And a Hazel underground, 
I’m from a Little House on the Prairie
And A Chair for my Mother.

I’m from out of sight, 
Out of mind, but
I’m from places I’ve left
And can never leave behind.

I’m from losing a child,
and butterfly sightings, 
I’m from night-long talks, 
And Out of the Darkness walks. 

I’m from scratching the chins
Of two white-muzzled pups, 
I'm from other mutts
Who carried on.

							

4 thoughts on “Where I’m From*

  1. love the this memoirish poem that gives us a glimpse into your journey. i do wonder what called you to revise this one…it’s funny how pieces/ideas can sit and, in some ways, be forgotten, then they appear wanting some attention. thanks for sharing!

    Liked by 1 person

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