Where I'm From

I was substitute teaching at a local high school last week. This assignment was on the walls. And there was a prompt with blank lines, like a Mad Libs to fill in with your own words on the teacher's desk. Below is the original poem and below that is mine. I'm pretty proud of it as it's not the style of poetry I usually do. Have fun reading and until next time catch ya on the flip side.

Where I'm From

By: George Ella Lyon

I am from clothespins,
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.
I am from the dirt under the back porch.
(Black, glistening,
it tasted like beets.)
I am from the forsythia bush
the Dutch elm
whose long-gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.

I'm from fudge and eyeglasses,
          from Imogene and Alafair.
I'm from the know-it-alls
          and the pass-it-ons,
from Perk up! and Pipe down!
I'm from He restoreth my soul
          with a cottonball lamb
          and ten verses I can say myself.

I'm from Artemus and Billie's Branch,
fried corn and strong coffee.
From the finger my grandfather lost
          to the auger,
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.

Under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pictures,
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams.
I am from those moments--
snapped before I budded --
leaf-fall from the family tree.

Where I’m From

By Ky Turk

I am from mountains,

from rocks and pinecones.

I am from dirt which is the ground

(Brown, dry, and caked all over your body.)

I am from the pine,

the Jeffrey Pine

whose needles fell making it slippery

be careful.

I’m from summer vacations and tans,

From Connie Wolfe and Kris Turk.

I’m from the talkers and the eaters,

From “Clean your room.” and “If you’re full stop eating.”

I’m from we are saved by grace and Wednesday

night youth group

I’m from Ventura and the British,

See’s Candy and lobster.

From my grandpa’s speech with pictures of Pierce lining his coat,

from my grandma’s decades of ElderHostel trips.

In the hallway’s cupboard there are shoe boxes full of photo envelopes,

taken and organized by my mother,

capturing every moment.

I am from the photos,

shiny but old,

freezing who I used to be.