I’m from pocketbook Bibles with colored-in pictures
Singing hymns, statuesque, at my place in the front
I’m from swing sets and woodchips on stark school bell playgrounds
Where clean pastel sneakers clash with harsh bloody knees
I’m from nights spent in Plymouth, and long starched-white dinners
Don’t let the fork hit your teeth while you eat
I’m from Saturday mornings at dark restaurant tables
Shirley Temples and white oyster crackers
I’m from trembling forts from chairs and pale linen
Wait to punch out; melted ice and stale French-fries
I’m from best friends for twelve years, CaitlinAshley conjunction
Dark nights speak worldly things, divining our futures
I’m from spun-sugar promises with bittersweet endings
Living off whispered secrets and long nighttime calls
I’m from headache and heartbreak and a too-friendly boyfriend
When silent tears were all that I’d show
I’m from short autumn nights and long winter mornings
And the spring afternoons when I’m left all alone
I’m from Asimov and McCaffry, from Shakespeare and Adams
And the ages I spent curled in that old wooden swing
I’m from tide pools teeming with small tingling creatures
Sloshing hermit-crab water from a green plastic pail
I’m from wooden floors with red curtains and overhead lighting
Picnics and sunsets and steaming hot chocolate
I’m from loving and laughing, caterpillars in shoeboxes
Clasped mittened hands, singing Disney song anthems
I’m from dancing barefoot in a summertime rain
Not caring who sees me, I always laugh first


ash @ 10:13 PM