I am from red solo cups,
from Xbox and iPhone 6
I am from the pool in the backyard.
(Blue, cool,
it looked like a sapphire.)
I am from the rose bush
the tulip
the red petals distracting me
from the piercing thorns.

I’m from crawfish boils and brown eyes
from Ronnie and Vickie
I’m from the loud ones
and the brutally honest ones
from “get down from there” and “stop eating”
I’m from crosses
and celebrations after baptisms.

I’m from New Orleans and Italy,
spaghetti and red beans.
From the hole in the boat
that caused Mandy to break one of her ribs,
the cat that scratched my mom.

On the bookshelf in the office
under rows and rows of books
the bookshelf is very old
having been through so much
the pictures, yellow and wrinkly.
I am from the pictures before and after
passed down generation after generation