I’m from summer lake vacations
campfires and s’mores at night.
From chlorine cakes and nail polish peaches.
Apple picking and crunching leaves on the way to school,
playing catch for hours.
I’m from windmill cookies dunked in Grandma’s coffee,
from rope swinging and grilling in the alley.
Black and white movies, and Legos on rainy days.
Italian swears and songs I can still hear,
jacks or better and the penny game.
From blanket forts and pillow fights,
and Come Back Inn’s trail of peanuts and popcorn.
From homemade meatballs and gravy, not sauce.
Long road trips and obnoxious singing from the backseat,
antique store parking lots with a good book.
I’m from bike rides down “The Speedway,”
dark dirt-stained blood and torn sliding pads.
From hot afternoons on the marching field,
To cheering at the cold night games
and lips sticking to frozen mouthpieces.
I’m from long drives
and longer phone conversations.
The move from one crowded suburb to another.
24-7 and groups of girls to talk about life and faith with,
hoping and praying for tomorrow.
