Where I'm From--Poem

I just wrote a poem, and thought I would share it.

I've been doing quite a bit of soul searching lately... Will fill you in later.

Enjoy!

Where I’m From

I am from marshes down the lane,

From gathering pine cones in the woods,

From lush blackberries in buckets,

And apple-picking in the orchard.

I am from the stone house standing tall above the cliffs,

from the cypress tree losing its branches in every storm.

I am from walks to the mill,

From long afternoon days overlooking the ocean.

I am from the bat in the attic.

From the sweet and savory soups cooking on the stove,

As the scent seeps into my bedroom on the top floor.

I am from Bach’s Cello concerto,

From long trips in the van to Portugal or Spain.

From market squares and oyster shells,

cracking crab and sweet white wine.

From rocks and roots under my footsteps.

I am from campsites and cliffs

Sand and seashells from the beach,

From books and textbook learning,

And demanding exams in the morning.

I am from the early bus ride in the dark,

To the other side of town.

From the ribbon of asphalt unfolding under our wheels.

From glowing ambers in the hearth,

And thatch roof houses nestled in the marshes.

From grilled fish to spicy chicken,

From fresh dough churning into warm and crusty bread,

From sweet honey and Irish tea.

From the waves crashing endlessly

And from hand in the pocket as a sign of hello

I am a leaf snapped off the family tree

Longing to be back clasping its trunk into my hands.