flowers, like people

I Am From Poem

I am from fuzzy blankets
From Rice Crispy Treats and British Sweets

I am from the chair that sits on my front porch
lonely, strong, it feels like home.

I am from the roses that grew in my grandma’s garden
oh the roses, the red roses with radical blooms

I’m from get togethers and silly smiles
From Ruth and Collette

I’m from the helping hands and loud mouths
From the maybe next times and I told you so’s

I’m from The Lord’s Prayer, a construction paper poem

I'm from Harrisonburg, and that one white church
chex mix, dilly beans
From the bedtime stories my mom used to tell
the things my grandmother did to fight

Under my bed lays and old shoe box.
The gathering of old memories lay underneath me each night before I lay to sleep,
so they can remain with me, and only with me, throughout my dreams..