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I Am From Toy Cars and Monsters
I AM FROM
crumbly, yellowed 1st grade schoolwork
dog-eared and well-worn Harry Potter books
lightly scratched Beatles CDs
a full collection of Sailor Moon movies, upright and proud on the shelf
I AM FROM
dusty dirt tracks made by toy cars
leaf-filled, murky pools in winter time
a faded sunflower bench that creaks with weight
shady lookout spots atop the branches of the best climbing tree around
I AM FROM
the Grandfather Tree, gnarled and welcoming
glens pierced with cascading sunlight
horrifying yet imagined ghost sightings
prime sledding hilltops slick with winter’s blanket
I AM FROM
squelchy three-cheese macaroni
salty buttered artichokes
dollops of Thanksgiving cranberry sauce
golden bubbling sparkling cider
I AM FROM
my diary scribblings stashed under the bed, guarded by childhood monsters
cartoons scrawled over math class algebra
now indecipherable notes invisible ink
overflowing memory box containing the history of a friendship
I AM FROM
a childhood as unique and innocent as anyone else’s
like a snowflake that lands on a window, pristine and white
that eventually has to melt and trickle down
ready for what’s next.
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