I am from Maytag, from Oscar Mayer and Tang.
I am from two-story, manicured, avocado green
where men and women lingered
over cigarettes, gin, crumb cake and black coffee.
I am from the tall grass, lilacs, clay, and the clear blue sky.
I am from ice skating and snow shoveling, fireflies and boats.
I am from garage sales and hearty laughter,
from Keith and Norinne and Helen and Brent.
I am from those who can fix it and those who keep on.
From "early to bed and early to rise" and
"you have to make a mess to get organized."
I am from Sunday school at the church by the violets,
Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow.
I'm from Ohio and Indiana, beans and corn. From the farm equipment that crushed Aunt Jean’s arm, the land that sent my grandfather around the world, and the tumor that took my mother’s freedom.
I am from boxes of photographs and mementos
resting on the glass shelves waiting to be paired
with the family tree discovered on the internet.