Where I am from:

I am from smooth linoleum,
From Soft Scrub and clean sinks.
I am from sawdust spewed from
Electric saws as we remodeled our house.

I am from long braids and print dresses,
(dresses my Mama sewed herself),
From bonnets and sandals,
From raspberry-framed glasses
Nestling against tanned skin.

I am from long summer nights
When the sun didn't sleep until 10,
And the dew on the grass
Was cool against my bare feet.

I am from spicy mints from dad's pocket
(Sugarfree Certs, with deep blue centers)
During the church service on Sundays,
To tide us through the long sermons.

I am from pot roasts and spaghetties,
From late-night popcorn (Dad's specialty)
And peanut-butter foldovers with milk,
From chicken stir-fries and homemade cookies.

I am from classical music records,
Beethoven and Bach and Rachmaninoff,
My companions ever since I was little,
Then allies through years of lessons.

I am from once-a-year family reunions,
On Mom's side, for grandparents' birthdays;
Dad's side less steady, only seemingly
Getting together for funerals.*

I am from Kevin Roy and Judith Ann,
From Wilmer LeVerne and Anneka Mae,
From Lloyd Franklin and Maxine Rae,
From Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and England.



* There's the random get-together for a graduation or a Christmas every few years, but, truly, my Dad's side of the family is not family-oriented. I want to marry a man who comes from a tight-knit family, one that spends time together not out of obligation, but liking to; one that goes out of its way to be together and revels in time spent together.