I am from washcloths
From Pledge and Mr. Clean
I am from the thirteen red steps, covered in brown leaves and black caterpillars
(treacherous, crunchy, with each step sounding like crushed ice spewing from the refrigerator)
I am from the hibiscus plant
The sago palm
Pointed and ready to attack its prey

I’m from the game of secret santa and
Olive skin tones
From Roy, Lenora, and Ethel
I’m from the good sports, top finishers
And competitive athletes
From Get down! and don't scuff the walls!
I’m from forty-five minute Christmas mass
With Joy to the World buzzing in my ear

I’m from Rachel and Phil's branch
Rice dressing and boudin balls
From the orphanage of my great grandfather
The farm built from my grandfather's own hands

In the front room-the catch all of Katrina
In boxes stacked high, lay the faces of strangers, who ran out of time
These candids taken before my own clock had started