I am From…

I am from the rusted grill sitting outside on the old porch

From grape Gatorade and delicious barbecue burgers

I am from the old house two cities away that’s blackened by Flame, where Memories still linger

Where it always smelled like food

I am from the gigantic oak trees

The old evergreens whose long

Gone limbs I remember

As if they were my own


I’m from sugar cookies and blonde hair

From my father and grandfather

I’m from midnight fishing and lots of reading

And from having at least on dog


I’m from trying my best and never giving up

And “You are My Sunshine”

I’m from gathering at the table every meal

I’m from Cannelton, IN and French, German, and Dutch

Lasagna and burgers

From my uncle in Afghanistan

Getting shot at and working on vehicles

To old black and white photos

On a wooden shelf way high up in the living room


This poem is about: 


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