A mad/lib type meme from this template after reading Sandra's poem first.
I am from chess pieces in old jewelry boxes, from Little Debbie and scratched Elvis records.
I am from the white-frame house built during the Depression and hauled across the state line in the 70s; a horseless stable, a coop with no chickens, an empty kennel and a warm dog sleeping next to me indoors.
I am from the azaleas, the crepe myrtles, the creek surrounded by cyprus knees.
I am from still-life painting and nervous breakdowns, from R.A. Shackelfords and Bartletts and Holtons.
I am from free spirits grappling with their old-fashioned values, and sleeping with the radio on.
From "I have pet tigers, but they're hiding" and "when I was your age I was a girl".
I am from the tiny Baptist church that's too far away, from "Amazing Grace" and "How Great Thou Art". From "I think women should be able to preach, but the church says no" and "maybe we'll stay home this week and just watch the preachers on TV."
I'm from Miami and Georgia and Illinois, from cotton fields and Confederate soldiers, and flour sacks mistaken for ghosts. From sweet potatoes and cheese toast, sweet tea and corn muffins and Great Northern beans.
From the grandfather who shot a telephone, the uncle who died in a car accident and the grandmother who knew he wasn't the driver even before the report came out.
I am from home videos overdubbed with Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens, from a stable filled with belongings of cousins who've never lived here, and a tattered wicker trunk stuffed with dog show ribbons and faces I don't recognize. From a painting of Granddaddy with a cigarette in his hand, from Hummel figurines and scrapbooks full of David Cassidy and Donny Osmond, from boxes of quarters from 1884 and marbles from 1930.
No comments:
Post a Comment