Where I’m From

Rowen Passigli

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I am from porches

From Windex and detergent

I am from the small county town 

(flower-lined streets, streams, they were still cold in the summer)

I am from the Maple Trees,

Queen Anne’s lace,

I am from family dinners

from Mary

and Jenien

and Richard

 

I am from late-night conversations 

and home-cooked meals

From Reach for your dreams!

and Go play outside.

     I am from

                     Him leaving

                                              when I was 

                                                                      eleven 

I am from New York,

milky coffee and peppermint tea

 

From the death of a grandpa

                          the brain tumor he won’t remove

        and the terrors of Nana’s cancer

 

I am from old pictures, hidden from sight,

the new ones being hung for all to see

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