I Am From

I am from
sun slanting in the late afternoon
on the shed side of the house.

I am from
summers in the mountains,
by the creek so cold and clear
I could see the tiny minnows ten feet down.


I am from
peanut butter Mondays,
tuna noodle Fridays
and chicken cacciatore Sundays

I am from
incensed churches
and saddle shoed schoolyards,
Schwinns and Keds and countertop candy stores.

I am from
stickball and tag and Monkey-in-the-Middle,
tree fort and Toughskins and tomboy.

I am from
record stores, vinyl, liner notes and wall posters
guitar strings and songs played over and over
until they sounded just right,
from late night harmony and sunrise songfest.

I am from
seed and belly and kicking feet.
from labor and birth -- theirs and mine
as I let go of them into the wider world.

I am from
car seats to driver seats
kindergarten to college
from there and from them, just as surely
as they are from me.

I am from
straight, to not straight,
expected to eccentric, false to true.
from fear and falling, ferocity and fulfillment.

I am from
the beginning
a time I take along even now,
as I continue, my past rolled under my arm
like a long thin blanket
ready to be referenced at any time,
like Torah scrolls in the tabernacle.

I am from
then -- and now
and from where I find myself tomorrow.
and tomorrow,
and tomorrow.