by Emma Hughes
I am from the oak leaves that float in the pool
I am from the hundreds of stacks of
Books and notebooks that
Give and keep my thoughts.
I am from the skateboards, bikes, and
Baseballs, from the glorified deer stand
That is home to the squirrels. I am from the mischievous horses
That push me in the mud every time it rains.
I am from the neighbors that
We do not see, but hear all the time,
From the bonfires, guns, fishing poles,
From the hide and seek games in the dark.
I am from the princess movies with Ellie,
From the airsoft wars with Coy,
From the wild ideas of Aunt Alisha,
And the ping-pong games with Jacob.
I am from I love you Chickadee,
As my mom tucked me in at night when I was younger.
I am from don’t get the water wet,
The long vacations to see Grandpa.
I am from chicken pot pie
On Sundays at Grandma’s house
From the hot tamales that
We make on Christmas Eve.
Daddy’s sock drawer and Granny’s attic.
I am from the notebooks and papers that I hide under my bed,
From the photos that I use to remember forgotten memories.
(Photos courtesy of Joy Elizabeth Clark)