I am from fairy tale books on warm summer days, from Barbie doll dreams and bright yellow trikes.
I am from apartment building complexes, cramped and crowded, too tiny to play in like all children should.
I am from weeping willows crying my name, the dandelion wishes begging to be blown, the rocks collected in a special shoe box.
I am from the pick-your-dinner-birthday celebrations and treat-others-how-you-want-to-be-treated, from my father and mother and step-parents too.
I am from the nicest of nice and strongest of wills, from generous and giving and loving too.
From you're too shy and you're so smart and if only you applied yourself you'd go far.
I am from Baptist churches on Sunday mornings, the verses of the Bible recited by heart.
I'm from endless corn fields in every direction, from the land of blond hair and blue eyes and Swedish meatballs too.
From the dad who fell down the steps with baby-me in his arms, never a tear shed, a smile instead, from a mother's will to right all her wrongs.
I am from photo albums stuffed with memories neatly displayed, from brown cardboard boxes of childhood art, from summer lake days framed on walls and held dearly in memories in my heart.
2.) Where I’m From poem.