Autobiography

 

Midwest farm raised

Sweet honeysuckle by the fence-line

and suckers stashed in the church pews 

Expected princess 

Playing dress up since age two

 

Late nights

Muffled conversations 

Mom's ear pressed to the door

She wonders who I'm talking to

She wishes it was she I spoke to more

 

Books opened

Highlight, take notes, write essays, my head spins

Another report card

And I nap again

 

Counting down the days

Not quite grown up yet

And living too much too soon

 

Feet become cinder blocks

I fall against the weight

Crushes become lovers

And he forgot the meaning of a date

 

Nights at the altar

Mornings on my feet

Learning where joy is

And where shame should never be

 

Remembering how to stand up

Straight and tall

Finding love and purpose

And strength through it all

 

With the weight of a wing

Life floats along

I found goodness

In the elements that  molded me

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world

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