I am from magnificent bowls of peas,
from Wedgewood and Bently.
I am from the bungalow that sat silently under the sun,
charming and quaint (It looked like an enormous pillbox).
I am from the old crisped photographs,
the tattered blue overalls stained from sweet curiosity.
I am from Christmas trees and writers,
from David, William and Anthony.
I am from the natural born hoopers,
and the future writers of America.
From no shoes on in the house
and no juice until you finish your peas,
I am from Lutheran and Christian beliefs.
I am from Chicago, Illinois,
catfish and deep dish pizza.
From the arm my sister sprain falling down the hill,
and the deep thinkers.
From the old pictures hidden under the couch,
I am from the lost possessions and faded memories
of a young kid.