Im from oak trees
Reaching limbs that shade
The sizzling concrete
Tailgating before a game

Im from Sunday breakfast
Family gathered round
Loud music & conversation
Filling the house with sound

I'm from a sprinkler
Placed in the backyard
In the summer time
The cheapest way to cool off

I'm from biting tongues
Southern by a grace
Taught feelings are better bottled up
In attempt to save a little face

I'm from photographs, artifacts and names used
In vain to help my grandmothers memory pull through

I'm from the place
Where music is constantly played
At every occasion, no matter the time of day

I'm from a culture, deeply rooted
Through mardi gras, beignets, and family reunions
Where English occasionally gives way to French
Like a tree. I branch
In every direction
I am from home