Where I Am From

I spent a thought-provoking weekend in poetry class at Regis. One of the exercises we tackled was the Where I Am From poem, based on the original poem written by George Ella Lyon (http://www.georgeellalyon.com/where.html) and a template created by Levi R0mero (template) inspired by the original poem. Each student created his or her own piece in about twenty minutes, and we had a blast reading and listening to everyone's brief synopsis of growing up. I asked my sister to write one of her own and was tickled that we picked several of the same words or images. Here's my version:

Where I am From

I am from pea green shag rug

from mustard yellow wall phone and long, long cord.

I am from the blue-shuttered salt box without air conditioning

holding the odor of lentil-barley soup.

I am from the rhubarb patch, the weeping willow,

whose tentacle limbs and gnarled roots hid secret notes and Barbie dolls.

I’m from living Christmas trees and loud sneezes,

from Herman and Ruth.

I’m from throat-clearing and garage-sale shopping

and Mass on Sunday mornings.

I’m from suck it up and respect your mother

and “My Darling Clementine” on guitar.

I’m from eggy-cheese casserole on holidays.

I’m from Pompton Plains and Ann Arbor,

turkey tetrazzini and 31 Flavors.

From shipwrecked child-bride Mary

passing a ten-spot down the queue at Ellis Island,

from many wood-paneled living rooms on which hung

photos of Montana tree farms, mountain sunsets,

 and family crests of keys.

-Laura Dravenstott