Where I'm From
I am from pencils,
Crayola markers and sketchbooks.
I am from the two-floor house on a hill.
(Warm, unforgettable,
housing the love and grace held within.)
I am from the lush green grass,
the Sycamore tree
whose bark would peel and fall
shedding my walls of insecurity.
I am from apple pies and pranks,
from Terri and two Roberts.
I'm from the pessimists,
the perfectionists,
from Always lift, and Toes up!
I'm from the building whose doors led to worship
with the pews full of elders.
The God who created me and has given me life.
I'm from the friends that keep me going,
pushing me forward and catching my tears.
From the many