Where I'm From

I am from books,
from Shalamar and Aremis.
I am from grass in the backyard,
(soft and green, it felt like a feather).
I am from hibiscus flowers,
the kerosine heater,
that warmed us on cold nights
when the basement was cold.

I am from watches and cookies,
from Bob and Patti.
I am from the history wizards
and horse-lovers,
from loving kisses and independence.
I am from respect your elders,
turn down the TV
and let the dogs out.

I am from East Burg and New Jersey,
from muddy boots and a warm meal,
from the cancer my dad had
without me knowing,
and from the happy barking of Oreo on those warm Spring days.

In my closet is an old shoe box,
filled to the brim with cards
of loved ones past and present,
to remind me of life, of what I am.
I am a daughter, a sister, a niece,
from those birthdays and laughs,
a symbol of what is done and what is yet to be done.

I am me.