I am from magnificent bowls of peas,

from Wedgewood and Bently.

I am from the bungalow that sat silently under the sun,

charming and quaint (It looked like an enormous pillbox).

I am from the old crisped photographs,

the tattered blue overalls stained from sweet curiosity.

I am from Christmas trees and writers,

from David, William and Anthony.

I am from the natural born hoopers,

and the future writers of America.

From no shoes on in the house

and no juice until you finish your peas,

I am from Lutheran and Christian beliefs.

I am from Chicago, Illinois,

catfish and deep dish pizza.

From the arm my sister sprain falling down the hill,

and the deep thinkers.

From the old pictures hidden under the couch,

I am from the lost possessions and faded memories

of a young kid.