Who We Are: a class poem from Creative Writing 2017

I come from 103.7 radio station blasting from the speakers.

Our long talks at North Diamonds--that’s where

We made our best life decisions so far.

From the little red car trips that never failed to take

my breath away and always left me with windblown hair.

I am from an old house on a country road

where the house got moved for a new one to show.

I am from the smell of gunpowder and the heat

of the sun, the summer nights where we play and have fun.

I am from the small city of Dixon where cornfields go on for miles

and summers were spent at the ballpark.

I’m from the dirt I played on, the school I grew up on.

I’m from fishy-smelling kisses on my fingers,

lullabies and chocolate pies.

I am from Grandma’s brownies with the powdered sugar,

from big family dinners to four wheeler rides.

I am from my grandma Susie with lungs full of smoke

to a heart full of love.

I’m from the bike rides and skateboards

from the ballgames and games of hide ’n’ seek.

From the masterpieces made on my mother’s back.

I am from artistic genes and allergies in the summer,

winter and spring hoping I don’t fall.

I am from the west

and the safety of Warren Air Force Base.

I am from the 21 gun salute that still rings in my ears--

our forever goodbye. I am from let downs and unmet

expectations, overachieving siblings

and “be more like your sister.”

I’m from a father who never had time for me

from a mother who only cared about her son.

I am from long walks in the darkness

and goodnight starts, to staying up late

and sleeping till noon.

I am from endless mountain peaks,

and quiet to most talked about.

I am from wanting to change my life

to not know how.

I am from crystal clear lakes, green meadows,

the mountain and valleys. I am from red roses,

black holes and crushed hearts.

In the closet was a dress flooding memories,

a ghost of people to reminisce in.

I am from the memories deep in the hutch,

memories of forgotten faces

to fade away with the fallen leaves.

I am from familial imperfections

from the growth we find through each other

our growing wisdom like winding vines

encompassing our family tree.