Where I’m From (an homage to George Ella Lyon)


#SOL16 Day 9

We didn’t realize we were making memories; we just knew we were having fun. ~Unknown

I am from the rusty cellar door,
from lily of the valley and roller skate keys.
I am from the front bay window
that looks out towards the oak tree.

I am from the lilac bush,
the peach trees
those long limbs I remember
as if thery were my own.

I’m from tinsel on Christmas trees and bad knees,
From Lucy and Al.
I’m from listening to Phillies home games on the radio,
and changing TV channels by hand,
and from catching lightning bugs in the backyard.

I’m from “Sit up straight” and
“Your turn to weed the garden.”
I’m from canning jars.

I’m from Philadelphia and “What parish are you from?”
keilbasa and saurkraut, and ravioli
from my grandfather who chased squirrels from his garden with tin pie pans
and who trimmed my father’s fig tree without permission.

In my mother’s storage unit there are bins
stuffed with photos
of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

I made these memories,
and these memories made me.

4 thoughts on “Where I’m From (an homage to George Ella Lyon)

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