Something I wrote using the "Where I'm From," a poem by George Ella Lyon, as a template.
Where I'm From
I’m from empty grocery bags from Walmart and being disposable.
I’m from the beautiful chaos of a blended family.
I’m from the mountains, the darkness, the stars that only show up when all light disappears.
I’m from the creativity of the Sutphins, the tenacity of the Freemans, and names recorded in police records instead of bibles.
I am from mistakes and misunderstandings but never giving up.
From, “It’s our little secret” and a God who didn’t see me.
I’m from the Appalachians, soup beans, cornbread, and hobo packs.
From the one time we tied fish to our feet for shoes and other crazy stories we joked about to keep from crying about the truth.
I’m from photos piled in bags left on sidewalks with the trash sorted through in desperation looking for home.
I’m from yesterday, a constant longing for everydays, and dreams of tomorrow.
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