Where I Am From

I am from winter,

From cold snowy nights and the winter wonderland of a forest. 

I am from the fireplace in the living room.

(Warm, Comforting,

where we make our s'mores) 

I am from the mountain top

The weeping willow

Who forever remains in my memories

Swaying in the cold crisp wind.

I’m from milk and cookies, 

    from family and friends.

I’m from the messy rooms

    and the clean ones to,

from Pass that here! And Put that away! 

I’m from the lord jesus christ died for our sins

    with the nails stabbed through his limbs

    and the prayers i write on my bedroom wall.

I’m from Robinson’s and Weaver’s Branch,

string beans and cornbread.

From the war my aunt lost with 

breast cancer,

the blood and veins my father gave to save her.

On Top of my dresser is a family album

overflowing in memories,

a document of our lost loved ones

to remember the happy days spent in the mountains.

I am from those moments--

a wilting flower in the crisp wind--

blurred-lines running through our family tree.