Where I’m From

It’s Thursday, so that means I’m linking up with Mama Kat for her Writing Workshop. This week I’m doing the “Where I’m From” poem. You can find the template for it here.

I am from… the books left open on the coffee table, from libraries and little bookstores.

I am from…the little house on the hill, the small one without fancy things, but the place we all gathered because it was filled with love.

I am from…the gardens where the seeds are planted in neat squares but grow wherever they want.

I am from…the bedtime stories, dinner conversations and Mom’s homemade mac & cheese, and Dad’s contagious laugh and gesticulations.

I am from… the kind and the quiet.

From…strength of character and taking the path less traveled.

I am from…the belief to find the good in everyone.

Iā€™m from…transplants, one from across the sea and one from across the country. Two anything-but-southern parents who raised a decidedly southern daughter.

From…laughing until I cried with my mother, crying until I laughed with my father, the grandmother I thought resembled the Pillsbury doughboy and the grandmother who married one too many times.

I am…honestly myself, mixed together with one part pack rat and two parts archivist, another part practical and a dash of hopeless romantic, all tied together with the need to make everyone get alone and realizing it can’t be done.

That’s where I’m from.

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7 thoughts on “Where I’m From

  1. jerralea says:

    I enjoyed this, too. I thought of my granny’s house when you described “the little house on the hill, the small one without fancy things, but the place we all gathered because it was filled with love.”

    That is the best kind of place to be from of all!

    Like

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