In yesterday’s Move. Write. Connect, we used the prompt I Am From…
We read the poem by George Ella Lyon: WHERE I’M FROM (in honor of National Poetry Month).
I Am From…
I am from a hamlet
called Otisco
a white, worn-out home
with a tire swing
in the front yard.
I am from a dairy farm
scents of manure
corn silage, and
wildflowers
rows upon rows
of tall green stalks
cover me
as I look up
at the open sky.
I am from a family of seven
the middle child
I must not rock the boat
be a good girl.
I am from no boundaries
sweep things under the rug
and nothing to see here.
I am from raw milk
not pasteurized
or fat-free
straight from the cow
I pour it over my cereal
fruit loops,
fruity pebbles or
cinnamon toast crunch.
I am from the country
playing in the creek,
making mud pies and
looking for slugs
dirt under fingernails
running through hay fields
and back roads
I don’t carry a cell phone
no keeping track of…
I am from moments not captured
where being lost
was another way
to be found. Your turn, where are you from? Feel free to comment and share with us.
You’re invited!
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