The Making of Me

I am from the elderly:

The young, embodied in old.

Oil paintings, nickels, toothpicks,

Soup-ified meals, straws, and distant looks.

               I am from memories.

 

I am from plum trees

From Indians, from hammocks.

From fences too tall to see over

Surrounding the plot of green grass

               Outlining Iokua and I’s past

 

I am from boxes, stacked high in the house

From tape stretched taut

I am from empty houses, from

Fill-them-up houses

               From rooms within rooms – and windows.

 

I am from flour hanging in the air

From heat circling the furnace, flames, fire.

I am from dogs underfoot,

from kittens on laps.

               I am from warmth and books and writing.

 

I am from wind and grass

Graceful trees, full and bare

From birds and worms,

I am from rain.

               From sun in the sky, dressed provocatively, darkly, in clouds.

 

I am from bark and from bite,

Boomer Hyjinx, Buck Magoo, Shelby Jackson.

–One sand-paper nose, and clacking claws on bamboo floors

–Two wet noses and wet tongues.

I am from twelve legs of energy,

               From licks and kisses. From love.

 

I am from family.

Four legs and two legs.

Blood and heart.

Secrets and memories.

Laughter and tears.

               I am from family.

 

Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741