Where I'm From

I got the idea for this post from Michaele at Sprout 'n' Wings Farm.  I really liked her poem - click on over to read it.  Mine is quite different - same era, different State.  Give it a shot -- it was fun to do.  I was one of those kids who couldn't wait to grow up and leave home (and get my very own horse) so it was interesting to see how many wonderful memories are tied up in my childhood.  Guidelines for writing this poem are at this site.

I am from tree lined streets, Black Jack gum 

and icy cold coke bottles stacked in a vending machine.

I am from a tidy house with grey trim, the smell of green grass warm in the sun, 

from abundant fruit picked from backyard trees; plums, figs, avocados and loquats.

I am from the mountain foothills rugged, steep and shrouded in smog; 

from rattlesnakes in the gutter and coyotes trotting the streets at dawn.

I am from summer beaches, tanning oil and transistor radios.  

I am from lemon fights in abandoned orchards, forts built in fields and running in sprinklers. 

I am from Wassel and Albers, emotional fighters and reserved farmers; 

I am from a professor father who taught me to be honest 

and a homemaker mother who sewed all my clothes.

From a stamp collector and a lover of books.

I am from The Black Stallion and Little Women.  

I am from books smuggled into class.   

I am from the smell of horses on my skin and chlorine in my hair.

I’m a California native from Hungarian and German stock, hurka, cobass, sauerkraut and dill.  

I’m from avocado on toast and fresh bakery bread smeared with butter; 

From dirt and sand and sun.