I come from beige,
Apartment number thirteen.
I come from the empty lot,
Lupine popping up
In the desert of my childhood.

I come from the cracked pavement,
A pool filled with dirt.
I come from this lonely place,
It nursed me to life,
I kiss the joyous weeds.

I come from the apple tree
Lost in the orchard.
I come from the kitchen
And the bottles with marbles
Placed on the sill.

I come from the bamboo,
A bathtub in the garden.
I come from the blackberries
And their welcoming vines,
Joy wrapped in thorns.

I come from the pyracantha,
Eating so-called poison berries.
I come from he trampoline,
Jumping high high high
Above prickly oak leaves.