Where I'm From

Randy Seaver posted a new challange Saturday. I love the idea!!!! Here’s mine

I am from an old dog-eared book of poetry; a vintage crystal necklace;
A cup of English Breakfast Tea brewed in my grandmother’s Brown Betty. No milk.
I am from the house my father built on Tiffany Street and the path through the woods.
I’m from the tune without the words, and where the twilight lives after the dark;
That cardinal tapping at his reflection in the window….
I am from Ayn Rand, Edwin Muir, Enid Blyton, and James T. Kirk.
From a handwritten letter. Turkey dinner
At noon. Sandwiches at five o’clock.
White bread.
Butter.
Mayonnaise.
Always.
From if the wind blows you’ll stay that way and don’t swallow grape seeds
—they might get stuck in your appendix.
I am from
“Why?”
“How?”
And, “Who is ‘they’?”
I’m from across the pond, shepherd’s pie, and strawberries from Dad’s garden.
From the chauffer and the barmaid and before he left for war;
From a man with no vices and the only woman he ever loved.
I am from night and day.
From yellow ochre, alizarin crimson, and cerulean blue.
I am from Aunt Lizzie’s cedar chest and everything inside it;
A box of old photos from Grammie’s attic,
And a bag of them from the depths of Mum’s closet.

A picture’s worth a thousand words.
Sometimes there are no words.

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