Where I’m From

I wrote this poem for school a long time ago and just came across it again. I cleaned it up a little but for the most part it’s unchanged because no matter how much things change, some things will always stay the same. So this is a poem about my family and where I grew up.

I am from
the freshly plowed ground
from thread and needle
and the sound of curtains newly made
I am from
the shelves
who don’t have enough books
yet have no more places to be put
I am from
the stars
and the forest
and the never plain
I am from
knick knacks
and won’t throw aways
reruns of shows long since gone
and good fried cookin’
I am from
the woods and gullies
the hobby house
and still trying to fix up
I am from
wood workin’
and metal workin’
and someone always workin’ in the shop
I am from
constant old sayings
and stories been told
I am from all of these
my family
my home


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