Homegrown, a poem

I am from the noodle shop, from Kirkland products and Friday night football games.

I am from the blue house, up there near the top of the hill. Peaceful, distinct, warm.

I am from the apricot tree, hydrangeas, and backyard waterfall, the patchy grass, fat roses, and vegetable garden.

I am from bacon on Christmas morning and loud sneezes, from Evelyn and Louise and Dora.

I am from the proper hostess and never-disruptive guest.

From "bread and butter" and "be a lady".

I am from every single Sunday at church. "You'll thank us one day", and I did.

I'm from America... Ireland, Germany, Perogies, and Oliebollen.

From something in a bottle that smells good, the repeated stories, and the reusable paper plates.

I am from the red brick hearth, the old duffel bags, and the musty attic.

From habits of regular picture-taking, summer camping trips, and frugality.

Homegrown.



Poem template taken from http://www.swva.net/fred1st/wif.htm
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