I am from steel pots

From green beans and toothpaste

I am from the tan house down the road

Square, floral-lined, with children about

I am from the half-tree in the backyard,

The long-gone irises that used to erupt into color

I am from Christmas Eves and mood ring eyes

From Janet and Beth and Elna

I am from the perfectionists and the globetrotters

From "It's painful being beautiful" and "No one is you but you"

I am from those that let me make my own decisions

And so I blaze my own trail

I'm from Boise and Scandinavia

Pizza bit parties and pecan pies

From the sprained wrists on camera, replayable pain

From family fables caught in the news

Of wartime orders taken without hesitation

I am from the hand-painted chest that lives in my drawer

In itself a family momento

Pieces of a past I hope never to forget

And memories immortalized on paper

Times that may disappear into the past

But will always be a part of me

No matter how the world changes