Where I'm From

 

I’m from

A logging truck hauling along the rutted road,

sun peaking over the eastern mountain,

baby starlings squawking for their first feeding.

I’m from

fires in the gazebo, summer in a glass , BBQ, bluebirds,

dark soil, daffodils, dogs barking,rainbows over Lake Roosevelt.

Fresh garden peas, fresh farm eggs, fading fuchsias, fur,

water gurgling, clouds dividing, lilacs lingering, green beans sprouting.

I’m from

springtime iris, winter snow, fiery autumn leaves, gorgeous summer lilies.

I’m from

four dog memorials, cats that never came back, rabbits that grew old,

funerals for neighbors too soon and weddings in the yard,

reminders in the handwritten recipe, orange trumpet vine, a blooming dogwood,

empty pet food dishes, a collar on a nail, and a photo of two black cats.

I’m from Martin Creek, the place I call home.
by Christy Woolum