What I'm From

This writing came from an English assignment and is the reason I decided to make my way to this site and see what else I can come up with.

What I’m From

I am from deep woods, back woods, and “woods” more like trees beside concrete.

I am from green grass and slugs that I insisted on salting.

I am from rolly pollies collected in a box. Lightning bugs stashed in a jar.

I am from clubhouses made of dirt, ladders made of tree root, and the “concreek” otherwise known as a runoff drain.

I am from apartments stacked on top of each other and overrun with children who became friends.

I am from bologna and cracker picnics on my bedroom floor.

I am from church programs and angels fighting about who should stand over baby Jesus.

I am from beach vacations, returning home with souvenirs and sunburned faces.

I am from fried chicken and cornbread pancakes.

I am from home cooked dinners eaten together at the family table.

I am from the underpass, since filled in and the train tracks removed for an alley.

I am from speedy drives over that tiny hill behind Wal-Mart, since flattened and no longer fun.

I am from street light curfews and listening for my mom’s call to come in for the night.

I am from roller skates on uneven pavement and broken hearts on smooth skating rink floors.

I am from bug zappers and Boggle on the screened in porch.

I am from snow coated winters and summer thunderstorms.

I am from apple butter churned in the yard with Rebekahs.

I am from Mom’s quiet strength and Dad’s intelligent humor.

I am from Mamaw’s ice cream and Papaw’s Harley.

I am from Granny’s dollar store trips and cousin sleepovers.

I am fierceness encased in fluff.

I am power wrapped in kindness.

Author's Note

This has already been turned in as an assignment, but I appreciate any feedback that might help me grow as a writer. This is literally the first poem I've written in over 15 years.

Reviews

[apennylate]

This was quite the portrayal of ones self through charming lines packed with personal folds of emotion... Keep writing poetry...Well penned...

[Alias]

I loved the dichotomy between the personal, very specific nature of your childhood, but also the how relatable so many things are, how much is shared between all our childhoods no matter where we are from. You definitely captured the spirit of nostalgia and of the little things we miss and forget about growing up. The form is a classic one but very effective here. Good write!