Where I'm From

I am from flour,
from Brownies and butterscotch bars.

I am from the sun breaking through the sunroom doors.
Warm, bright, it felt like a blanket.

I am from the rhubarb patch,
the birch tree whose bark I peeled
as if it were paper.

I'm from clam chowder and brown hair,
from Francis and Mary-Ann.

I'm from the don't chew like a cow
and the sit up straights,

From annunciate and don't pick on your sister.

Im from Our Father who art in Heaven
and ten commandments I should know by heart.

I'm from Berea and Francis' Branch,
apple pies and mashed potatoes.

From the finger my father lost to the
dog who can jump seven feet high.

In my basement are boxes of old pictures,

a collage of memories to float among my dreams;

I am from those moments that are still reminisced,
brought to mind when life takes you back.