I AM FROM | POEM

Where I’m From

Images of identity, with a few feathers in the wind

“Wind Blows All” | Deposit subscription

I am from hunter green duck-boots caked in wet mud.
From thickets of marsh grass — soggy and squishing.

I am from salt water, sand flats, and Sunday afternoons
spent searching the sky for eagles and ospreys.

I am from honey maple ham, sliced and sandwiched
between endings and beginnings.

I am from children who feel loved through rising steam,
bubbling woks, and Mom’s annual Shabu Shabu.

I am from daughters
waiting for parents to die,
and women who speak truth.

I am from mothers,
granting their children
the burden of freedom.

I am from grownups who haven’t grown up yet,
from wanting my turn to come home to myself,
and the gods who laugh because I want too much.

I am from elephants living in plain sight in every room,
and from the loneliness of feeling invisible.
I am from prophets, mystics, mentors, and advocates.