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Where I'm From
I am from four seasons.
From two acres of property--that my dad fortunately never let me cut--
in my historic, wrapped around porch, farm house,
swarming 20 feet branched trees accompanied by one beat-up tire swing.
I am from piling yellow leaves onto the blue tarp,
overjoyed to cast my body into the flock of golden-brown.
From pumpkin carving with purple, tingling hands
to salted, brown, almond-shaped seeds.
I am from snow plows, snow pants, and snow shoes
and mocking our family into snowmen.
From arriving to a thermal mug of hot chocolate with a pile of whipped cream
to then curling up on the couch with Polar Express, Elf, and A Christmas Story.
I am from slushed January,
to the budding Oak limbs.
From screams on the track and field, “KICK IT, KAILA, COME ON, G.”
to trophies of excellence.
I am from speed boat rides on Golden Lake.
Crashing into the water, and whipped off the tube.
From grilled hot-dogs and mosquito bites,
to sunburn and callused hands.
I am from seasons.
From two acres of property-- that my dad fortunately never let me cut--
in my historic, wrapped around porch, farm house.
With love for each and every part of the four.
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