Where I'm From

I am from the wind;
from cornfields and concrete.
I am from skyscrapers and forest glens;
from limestone and steel.
I am from the lilac bush, green lawns, and duck ponds.
From the twilight of the firefly's dance and
a cricket serenade.

I'm from guitar chords and piano keys,
from goggle straps and chlorine-scented hair.
I'm from Polish sausage and Italian beef,
from blue lakes and one green river
where the sauce goes on top of the pizza
(naturally.)
from sticky summers and piercing winters.
Of snow and sleet and sun and sky.

I'm from wagon wheels
and transatlantic steam.
I'm from tear-stained faith in every footstep,
from wooden doors carved in a sacred space.
I am from blue spruces and white mountains;
from popcorn popping on the apricot tree.

My father's camera sits
on a shelf beside my own.
Memories upon memories, captured through time.
I am from the photographs, an image slowly developing
carefully
with help from the Master's hand.

• • •

This post is part of a Wordfull Wednesday link-up hosted by Chocolate on my Cranium.

Where are you from?

Write a poem in the style of George Ella Lyon's "Where I'm From" and link up with us!