Where I'm From
“We are born in a certain time and a certain place and like vintage wines we retain the flavor of our origins.” ~ Carl Jung
"Where I'm From” is inspired by George Ella Lyon's poem of the same name, from the book "Where I'm From, Where Poetry Comes From." I first learned of it from my fellow Floydian friend Fred First on his Fragments From Floyd (can you say that 5 times fast) blog. If you would like to try your own version, see the template for the poem here. “Where I'm From” (which Fred affectionately refers to as WIF) has been making its way around the blogsphere and provides a fun way to express your unique sense of place while getting to know others. See my attempt below and see a collection of them at Pratie Place.
Where I’m From
I am from a granite boulder seawall
and cotton candy at Paragon Park
I’m from blackberry stains and beach rose petals
catalpa beans and bamboo
I am from my father’s eyes
after he saw the holocaust at Buchenwald
and the nape of my mother’s neck
where white pearls hung
before her thyroid surgery
I am from Hail Mary full of grapes
midnight mass and pennies in the poor box
I’m from the unlucky luck of the Irish
the old sod and Southie
before there were gangsters
I am from A your Adorable
B you’re so Beautiful
God Bless Mommy and Daddy
Jimmy and Kathy
Colleen and Danny
Sherry and Johnny
Joey and Bobby and Trish
I am from the salt of the earth
One if by land, two if by sea
John F. Kennedy and Fenway Park
even when the Red Sox are losing
I’m from ice skates and alphabet streets
jump ropes and black and white TV
I’m not from the farm or the city
I’m from plastic flowers in the village cemetery
and horseshoe crabs with blue blood
I’m from my grandmother’s picnic basket
sleeping on curlers in baby doll pajamas
kerchiefs and bobby socks
hoola hoops and the twist
Dear Diary today is Friday
I’m from a one pot New England boiled dinner
from steamed clams dipped in real butter
and playing monopoly during a hurricane
by a kerosene lamp in our kitchen