I had to write this for class, so I thought I'd share.
Where I’m From… by Mrs. Herring
I am from happy dog tails and the squealing children who chased behind,
From the cool, smooth touch of the piano as it yielded under my fingers.
I am from the statue of Mary I loved through the holidays
And the scent of perfection that lingered like a rotting rose.
I’m from grapevines and a cherry tree that gave us “homemade” fruit.
I’m from the lawnmower that I never learned to use.
And I’m from birdfeeders that drew color into the yard.
I’m from neighborhood talent shows
And the fort where we played war and breathed fire.
And I’m from the lake and the skis and the wakeboard that made me cool
With my brothers.
But I’m also from crazy Aunt Julie and sarcastic Uncle Bob,
Protective big brothers
And competitions with cousins for our grandparents’ affection.
I’m from “Perfek!” from Dad
And Ian’s “Miss Tenna”
And “You stand on the wrong side of the ironing board!”
And Mom promising “I love you no matter what.”
From Aunt Nell’s Thanksgiving rolls
(the ones Uncle Bill hides from everyone),
And Grandmom’s ring-a-ling stickies.
From Mom’s biscuits and gravy that she inherited from her mom
And the hand-decorated birthday cakes with coins in between the layers.
I’m from the mountains of Bristol.
I’m from football fanatic Knoxville.
And I’m from honky-tonk Nashville and my first mortgage.
Who am I? I’d rather tell you where I’m from.
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