Where I'm From

I am from dirty prairies
from grit in my teeth and chaff on my skin
I am from the field my father tills
(golden,vast,
praying for rain)
I am stained red from the strawberry patch.

The unlikely peach tree
whose stolen fruit made me
sick for days.

I'm from sunburns & snowdrifts,
from cow calls and meadowlarks.

I'm from five-more-minutes
and probably-not-todays.
from 'Hose yourself off" & 'It'll stick that way!'
I'm from Sunday School Circle
with stale donut prizes
and waiting during communion
all by myself.

I'm from Ireland and the Homestead Act
potatoes and ice tea.
From the memories that my grandpa's lost
stolen by age
The mouth that my mom keeps shut
to keep the peace.

The hay loft of the barn
skeletons of things forgotten
purpose unknown
trampled by technology.

I am rooted in this soil,
my branches reaching upward,
my seeds caught by the wind,
my heartwood at home.