Inspired by George Ella Lyon's poem Where I am From

I am from cul-de-sacs
From skinned knees and seven speed bikes
I am from the bewitching perfume of the osmanthus bloom mingling with freshly mown grass
I am from the familiar music of the bubbling creek and the cardinals song
the swish of a golf club and the thud of a soccer ball
I am from hot pavement on bare feet, the taste of honeysuckles, and reaching pine tree forests whose invisible trails and clearings became my secret empire

I am from airplanes and home cooking
From Mary and Mark
northern accents and southern hospitality
I am from "use your manners" and "Not enough month left at the end if the money"
I am from sunday school and patent leather shoes that pinch my toes
from a prayer before dinner that is carved into my brain

I am from poland
from poppyseed kuchen and kielbasa
I am from my grandmother forgetting baking soda in the bread
and then... years later, forgetting me too.
I am from my grandfather's sense of humor
and his unwavering stubbornness.
I am from too many cousins to count
from pinched cheeks and "How you've grown!"

I am from piles of unfinished photo albums
brimming with new adventures, frozen faces, and old memories
I am from the path I carved for myself with tools that my parents bestowed upon me.