Where I am from

and where you are from 

may differ; but what makes 

me,

me.

Is something uncommon to all.

 

I am from long hikes

on the wind blown snow.

From the effort of the climb,

to the effortless powder tipped skies.

I am from

Sweat, Pain, and Endurance

for hours on end.

I am from backcountry skiing.

 

I am from 8,000 feet.

Snow capped mountains,

and desert expanses.

From cities a Mile High

to towns even higher.

I am from Colorado,

the place I call home.

 

I am from the run of the blade,

to the perfect axel.

From twizzles, to brakets, to bowers.

I am from the perfect succes,

to the perfect fail.

I am from figure skating.

 

I am from green tea ice cream 

in the midst of summer,

to flannel shirts

in the bay of winter,

to long hikes in autumn,

and from the endless supply of tissues in the spring.

I am from season to season.

 

I am from the adventure

printed on paper.

To the dust of old friends,

and the gleam of new ones.

I am from page to page,

from chapter to chapter.

I am from novels.

 

I am from friends,

to the aquaintances we must put up with.

From green m&m's,

and red gummy bears.

From awkward silences,

and loud laughing fits.

From straigh A report cards,

and new pencils.

I am from Joy.

 

I am from endless canyons

to the sand in my shoes.

From snow in October,

and sun in December.

From the top of the peak,

to the end of the land.

I am from emerald forests,

and translucent lakes.

I am from the "not knowning where you're going"

camping trips,

to planned vacations.

I am from the Journey.

 

I am from all the above

to the ideas not written.

I am from 9 stanzas,

22 commas,

all 350 words; and some.

I am from the things yet to come;

and the things that already have.