I am

I am

large backyards, clotheslines, and rocking chairs on the

front porch.

T-shirts and blue jeans.

I am the magnolia tree at

Grandma’s,

the one we played under as children.

I am

family reunions in the crowded house.

Collard greens and carrot cake.

I am laughs and loud talk,

walks to Piggly Wiggly on

cold nights.

I am

“I ain’t studin you,” and, “that’s whatcha get,”

“Our father who art,” and, “Though shall not…”

I am Maurice and Temekia, not

Michael and Temekia.

I am

the moving box in the coat closet,

the photo album on the

bookshelf. I am

the faded pictures on the wall,

the song she hums under her breath.

I am those memories.