I am from Elizabeth Anne’s poetry journal
,
From herbal essences and books.
I am from the cozy stuffy farm house that smells like honey suckles.
I am from the kudzu,
The kudzu that grows everywhere.

I am from musical Christmas parties and the lefties of the family,
From Beverly and Richard
Poston.
From love Jesus and clean your room.
I am from the southern Baptist church called Northbrook
And the youth group called resolved.

I’m from Jones Chapel –white oak farm and England,
Fried chicken and chocolate pie.
From the time my little brother and I made a beach in the bath tub
The sand piled high
And the story my mom tells about my great grandpa coming home to take a bath and it was full of frogs.
I am from the scrapbook under the mantel, and the family cards in a shoebox in the basement
These are the memories of home
And they go from the time I was born, until all my birthdays, my surgery, and my graduation.
These memories will never fade away.
They are good things to bring up at family reunions.
Today I am a farm girl from my Justin boots to my Jones Chapel roots.