I am from a rooftop garden
That smell like fresh guavas
And hard, wired fences
Behind which lies a foggy skyline
A dreaming city
I am from a small, brown-red backyard shed
Tucked between rural green fields
Where two little girls defended the world from evil by
Laughing and swinging wildly on a rusted, fluorescent swing set
I am from a row of townhouses
Where no matter how late the return
Warm lights inside glow
Beckoning
I am from strong rocks
Against which foamy, icy waves crash
Leaving behind grass
Soft to touch
And hard to uproot
I am from eating overdone fried chicken
From short-lived patience
From a voicemail
That will always say
From Lucy, Tulu and Samah
From don’t eat that, it’s for the guests
And if you have to do it, do it, but I don’t want to hear about it.
From too many whys
And not enough faith
I am from Dhaka, Bangladesh
From jostling crowds and hearing a million voices outside
I am from Limerick, Ireland.
From rustic houses and quaint parishes
I am from Wallingford, Pennsylvania
From suburbia and inane boredom
From the college-genius who crashed weddings on weekends,
The woman who is still unimpressed by sushi in Japan
I am from feeling sad if you do
But wanting to make you laugh anyway
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 6:11 PM UTC
I am from a rooftop garden
That smell like fresh guavas
And hard, wired fences
Behind which lies a foggy skyline
A dreaming city
I am from a small, brown-red backyard shed
Tucked between rural green fields
Where two little girls defended the world from evil by
Laughing and swinging wildly on a rusted, fluorescent swing set
I am from a row of townhouses
Where no matter how late the return
Warm lights inside glow
Beckoning
I am from strong rocks
Against which foamy, icy waves crash
Leaving behind grass
Soft to touch
And hard to uproot
I am from eating overdone fried chicken
From short-lived patience
From a voicemail
That will always say
From Lucy, Tulu and Samah
From don’t eat that, it’s for the guests
And if you have to do it, do it, but I don’t want to hear about it.
From too many whys
And not enough faith
I am from Dhaka, Bangladesh
From jostling crowds and hearing a million voices outside
I am from Limerick, Ireland.
From rustic houses and quaint parishes
I am from Wallingford, Pennsylvania
From suburbia and inane boredom
From the college-genius who crashed weddings on weekends,
The woman who is still unimpressed by sushi in Japan
I am from feeling sad if you do
But wanting to make you laugh anyway
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