I am from the oak trees,

the determined mosquitoes and gnats,

the bloody scrapes on my knees.

I am from the woods behind my Grandma’s house,

frolicking with my cousins,

not knowing what time we need to be in.

I am from a rubber ball,

inflated for maximum enjoyment

orange, green, brown, black and white.

I am from the hoop in my driveway,

the wet grass that I grew up on,

was once old, is now new.

I am from the numbing water and the waves,

the sun beating down, 

the sunscreen in my eyes.

I am from my boat on Pewaukee Lake,

the skis and the innertube,

dragged behind like a kid at the dentist.

I am from the pool,

water volleyball and basketball,

entertaining pool games.

I am from family vacations,

badgering my parents to get up,

to cease relaxing and play with me.