by, Samantha Butterfield
I
am from gardening tools,
from
dirt and gorgeous flowers.
I
am from the swing set,
on
which I played as a small child.
I am from the morning glories
the
cherry blossom tree whose pink,
radiant
glory was extinguished as
though
only a nuisance.
I’m
from anime posters and video games,
from Nanny and Aunt Lisa
watching over me
while Mom is at
work.
I’m
from the lost loved ones
and old ghosts,
from
Hold your horses! and Fix your plate!
I’m
from Hail Marys at bedtime
with my favorite toy held
close
and frequent mistakes in
uttering the all-important prayer.
I’m
from Nanny’s Portuguese spaghetti and Italian cookies,
foods I can look forward to
any day of the week
that always taste just as
amazing as the last time they were made.
I’m
from the laughter and goodies on Christmas Eve each year
and the salty, bitter tears
shed after my first break-up.
I cherish them all… all of
those childhood memories.
Good and bad.
A
set of brick walls and a roof never meant so much to me
as it did in this place. Over
ten years were spent here,
many memories were created
here,
and it was sad
to
leave them behind…
