I’m from cooked sausages,

From fried Tyson and spiced wassail

I’m from the apple trees that blow in the wind and a porch that forms ice

I am from the roses with hummingbirds soundlessly about

 

I am from tree builders and chocolate eaters from Elizabeth

and Jonathon and Cassandra all the same.

I am from the wrestlers and the ice cream eaters

From the Shut Up and Get Down

I am from dress-it-up and sing in your seat

Coloring books, dipped in blessed water

 

I’m from small towns, bacon around a burger

From spaghetti that was baked not stoved

From the farmer that now holds the family past,

The aching heart and aching back,

And the strong will my father carries around

 

I am from dusty pictures with no color in broken books

I’m from the history in a piece of paper in a wooden frame

I’m from a farm with dogs and cows

I’m from the backbone of the nation; I’m from strong wills and high spirits

From hard workers and rainy skies.