Sunday, November 27, 2016

I am From

Lost beads of glass
Strung together
To form a semblance of a whole
Shiny blues
   Silvered grays
      The opalescence of greens
               tossed over and over
                      amidst the sand and water of my home
I am from
Wide open unfinished porches
      Toes up to the edge
              Standing tall in the doorway looking out
I am from gathering grandmothers arms
     aprons with pockets
            filled with Salem cigarettes
                    green packages bring me back
I am from
Nothing
Cast off from family
      left alone to make my way
          Wandering tall buildings of a new city
               trapped in bricks
                    held tight against my history
I am from
Fading hearing
       giving way to clarity
I am from
Silent buses moving me
I am from the power to say I can't hear
      and safety of a friend
            to help me maneuver through my
                  new noisy intrusive world
I am from Love
and from reclamation