I am from..

             I am from orange dirt roads, abandoned railroads tracks, and hills made just for walking.

             I am from hot Southern Summers, hoping for snow winters, and listening to Santa and his reindeers arrive.

            I am from breakfast with my granny, floured noses and sticky hands, and dubbed the greatest test taster.

             I am from quality time with dad “skint” knees and dirty clothes, and pouts because everything was too heavy.

             I am from momma pulling my hair, beads and knocker bows everywhere, no pigtail or plaits left behind, and demanding that I stay clean because it was ladylike.

             I am from “I can do it better!” first cousins and a “No it’s like this,” sister.

            I am from a past paved for me, and present fought for me and a future gifted to me.





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