Where I'm From
I am from the books crowding the shelves,
siting around.
I am from the old rotten apple tree
From the tree-house that has gone with the fallen limb.
I am from the red brick school,
sitting there.
It is no longer mine.
I am from pillow forts and gun fights with my brother.
I am from the stuffed tiger who came with me everywhere.
I am from homemade soup stirring in the kitchen,
And shrimp Wonton with my grand-mother.
I am from photographs lining the walls,
Mysterious figures of the past.
I am from shelves weighted down by trinkets and tokens.
I am from the green house on the corner,
The old swing-set and the playhouse.
By Edie Olderman
(my 11-year old grand-daughter)
