Where I’m From

I’m from Ivy Lane with the blue shutters,
upstairs in the smallest room.
I’m from Rags and Kipper and Chester,
dad’s voice used to bring them to life.

I’m from summers down the highway in his 442,
the smell of gas and motor oil.
From the rusty nail and my naked feet,
from cat naps every hour I can get.

I’m from the smallest school in the district,
from Sadie to Lane to Gianna.
I’m from chalky hands and red palms,
saluting judges with bored impressions.

I’m from December 23rd, 1997,
two days late, but two days early.
I’m from a hand-me-down personality
        with eyes and face to match.

I’m from the land of stars and candy stripes,
where freedom takes new meaning.
I’m from my mother’s arms after a slow night,
from staying up late and laughter.