I’m from the church and the cross in front

From the growing green grass in the back-yard with the neatly built tree house

Our castle in the sky.

I’m from the suburbs, hide and go seek down the street

From “Do I still have to share my room?”

I’m from street football and ripped jeans.

I’m from the cabin, still red though the paint peels.

From the huge family rock and the swing broken and gone.

I’m from Mexico vacations, sandy and wet

From the smell of diesel as daddy pulls up.

I’m from the hospital, threateningly cold and hostile. 

I’m from sneaking vanilla jellybeans behind the doctor’s back.

I’m from daddy hopefully yelling, “Go! Go!”

 To the television as if the Vikings could hear him.

From hot summer days in The Valley of The Sun.

I’m from cool boat trips to the lake

From “I was almost up!”

I’m from country music, When The Sun Goes Down

From Scooby-Doo where are you.

I am from those moments

A leaf still green

A branch growing stronger and longer