I am from…

I am from buttons that change the channel,

From green slimy soap and a mushy sponge,

I am from the carefully placed wooden bridge 

And cold, gray stone slabs way out in no man’s land,

I am from snow frosted trees that go on for miles.

The aging dead forest

Whose long gone limbs I remember

As if they were my own.

I’m from Christmas eve breakfast cookies

And sharing thanks at a table of 12.

From SISU passing from grandmother to granddaughter.

I’m from unnecessary bickering and from absolute perfectionism.

I’m from ‘eat up’ and ‘work hard,’ 

And ‘We are never getting back together.’

I’m from the clanging cowbells with cheers of encouragement.

I’m from North Carolina and the clear blue eyed vikings of Northern Europe.

Monkey bread doused in cinnamon and snake bites lathered in butter.

From losing her first baby, Mama never would have had me and my brother.

The now petite Christmas dresses and baby shoes, 

Or 800 photo albums of each memory now faded, 

Laid in home base never to be forgotten.

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