Copy Change Poem-Where Im From

I am from shoe strings,
from Heinz 57 and petroleum jelly.

I am from the fresh cut grass.
(Comfortable, acrobatic, burned like a hot pan.)

I am from the Japanese Maple,
the Weeping Willow that showered its shadow of protection over me like a mother’s arms in danger.

I’m from Dulce de Leche and stubby fingers,
from Carter and Harrison.

I’m from the lets talk it outs
and the you can do anything you put your mind to its,

From come down here and get up there.

I’m from we have to go to church this Sunday
and sleeping in every weekend.

I’m from Buenos Aires and Sandston, grits and Milanese.

From the pictures on my dad’s camera phone that he doesn’t know how to delete
the camera my mom bobbled out the car window on the freeway.
Forty-six years of memories cram old packaging boxes in the linen closet,

two full albums of me that my Great deceased Nanny Nelson kept since my conception.

I am from tasseled leather-
tight on the ankle loose on the toe-
the perfect side tuck.
-With thanks to Georgia Ella Lyon