where i am from

i am from mornings spent curled in blankets
where no chorus of “good morning to you” or covers pulled
suceeded in luring me from my nest
but the saturday morning aroma of bacon
now that was a different story

i am from waffles topped with strawberries
french toast doused in syrup
and coffee mixed with cream
from giggles and tickles
and half hour showers

i am from completed crosswords
puzzles that don’t quite fit together
from where things aren’t “good” but “well”
because grammar always matters

i am from days overflowing with activity
soccer socks, baseball gloves
lego, science kits, and california barbie tapes
from dirty laundry littered everywhere
and more grass stained on the clothes
than left on the field

i am from spandex and sequins
lyrca and velvet
from hours of chalk dust and rope climbs<
team jackets and collector pins<
with mom hiding in the crowd secretly keeping score

i am from long drives to competitions
with mom behind the wheel
and little girls scattered across the back seats
from a hatred of shotgun that created mrs. fudgepot
who said mom’s couldn’t have imaginary friends?

i am from nights on the green turf
neon lights in my eyes
yelling words to sweaty men
as i flip, twist and turn
but the roar of the crowd somehow never drowned out
the swish of my skirt

i am from cats and sneezes
stories of pantyhose
and crazy old grandma who danced on a table

i am from tent-trailer adventures
nights under the stars
and cherry-flavoured gummy bear flurries
(that nauseated yet still always attracted me)

i am from nights of take-out
chinese, indian, white spot, mario’s
and managers that know my daddy’s belly by name

i am from reading by windows
while slurping mushroom soup
and watching the rain dribble down the panes
forming puddles for my gumboots and i to dance in

i am from a broken man on a broken tree
whose death bought freedom
and life to the full
i have been released from moments of incredible insecurity
into a new-found hope

i am from loud songs with actions
igniting my world and holding on
dancing in the son and in the river
i am from raised hands and voices shouting
whispered prayers and joyful tears

i am from days with kids spent cleaning, painting, digging
while dancing and laughing
and making up songs
all the while hearing so many hurts
i am from listening and encouraging
crying and holding

i am from summers of counseling
and semesters of textbooks
tuesdays of fellowship and wednesdays of youth

i am from a place where sunday isn’t just sunday
even though family pretends that it doesn’t mean a thing
i am from a daily decision
that calls me to follow
not to lead on my own

i am from loving and longing to be loved
with pecks and kisses, piggybacks and road trips
from the quiet and the laughter
a picture of us that really is you and me

i am from late nights at timmy’s and denny’s
and trips out to bon’s
where the security guard sings
and fills our coffee while on his break
from that place where the bright yellow paint
highlights the curling corners of old movie posters
and the 2.99 eggs, bacon, potatoes and toast
fill the plate
and offset the ramshackle assortment of dishes and cutlery

i am from closeness and cuddles
rooms filled with laughter
and a home that will always be home

i am from hudson, 8a and rawlins crescent
streets in quiet neighbourhoods
whose fences and families
remind me of where i am from