Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Where I'm from.


 Synchroblogging with the women of SheLoves Magazine today. Check out everyone's great posts on this topic! And maybe write your own? I could  probably write 10+ versions of this prompt... Maybe someday. But here's how this one turned out.

I am from
steaming mugs of hot tea,
beaming-faced photos,
sweet-smelling books.

I am from
the houses of my childhood:
the tin roof porch that sang with rain,
the big bay windows where my dachshunds sit with eager ears and watch the world.

I am from
the small red-brick half-house that's now my cozy whole:
spinach cooking with garlic,
the dishwasher's hum,
the kettle's froth.

I am from
the towering magnolia I climbed as a kid,
the night blooming cereus soaking up sun,
the yellow daisies he brings.

I am from
storytelling extroverts and
ocean-loving introverts,
Betty and Frank and
Richard and Jean and
so many more
they all blur together to make me come to life.

I am from
NPR Saturdays:
trimming garden rosemary,
setting the dinner table
while Garrison Keillor sang ballads.

I am from
church Sundays:
sun up to sundown,
loving people,
hymn harmonies,
marble sanctuary,
wooden youth gym.

I am from
five small schools:
playgrounds and classrooms and
novels and words,
friendships and dorms and
adventures and basketball games and new homes.

I am from
the fried egg joke,
Harry Potter midnight parties,
family sing-alongs,
wheelbarrow rides,
big bear hugs,
swim team practices,
learning to ride my bike,
camping trips,
weaving through bamboo,
skating on the patio.

I am from
the warm beach and
the cool mountains:
the places of unchanging solace
when the world gets too loud.

I am from
chicken pot pie and
chocolate chip cookie dough,
apples and blue cheese,
Thanksgiving Day carrot cake and
Easter Sunday ham.

I am from
"You are loved," and
"You are a writer," and
"Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest, and may this food we have be blessed."

I am from
crisp autumn birthdays
(my brother is too),
and chocolate cake that always tastes best in October.

I am from
Decatur, the southland in the springtime, fall, winter, sweat-dripping summer:
its cul de sacs and colleges and churches,
and farther back
I am from
Ireland, Scotland:
the green earth and mystical seasides that take my breath away.

I am from
my grandfather's large tan suitcase,
the one that opens with a silvery click,
that keeps my journals and diaries safe
in the basement corner.

I am from
the life I'm living outside of those books, and
the ink and paper holding what has gone before, and
the space that waits eagerly for me as I turn the page.


DJW said...

Absolutely lovely, Claire!!

Unknown said...