I am from crossstitch promises
From butterfly kisses
And walnut trees
I’m from beautiful oak tables
And reading chairs
And crumpled up theater tickets
Forgotten in my jeans
I am from pig latin

I am from family photos
From weddings
And funerals
I’m from do it yourself-ers
And ask someone else-ers
And tuna noodle casserole
Every Christmas
I am from books that I’m not supposed to read yet

I am from stories
And love
Passed down through generations
I am from Scottish stubbornness
And German hot headedness
From egalitarian women
And political indifference
I am from Mel Brooks
And Incubus
And priceless hours spent in the car
On the way to the ski hill
I am from memories
Of innocence