My Words

Every word can tell a story, what matters is who speaks it

- Feb 2
written 2-1-07 (I am from)

I am from finger-foods on christmas eve

from bonfires on the lawn of grampa’s country house

jokes at the diner table with cousins and aunts

I am from walks out back of Gran’s

from lasagna and fried chicken and a tall glass of cool milk

from long nights and short days

from dog hair covered cloths

and cat filled yards

I’m from country roads in the middle of the night when the only one you can see is yourself

From sweet fruit fresh off the plant and

the smell of the ground after a long hard rain

I am from oh so much
notesurl

About

The world through my eyes, told by my heart with words and images

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