Where I’m From

I come from Calderwood

a long ox train and Indians

heading west around the Civil War

strong

one woman, sewing and farming

but that was long ago

a memory in the breeze

I come from the end of a hall

where my mother sang a hymn

left there in her moment

alone

singing How Great Thou Art

to no one there

but her belly full of me

I come from the pulpit

where my dad would tell a joke

before he preached the

cross

my grandmother deaf and

reading his notes

he’d bring you to your knees

I come from the fourth grade

they called me giggle pants

headstones beyond the play field

ghosts

where we’d kick the ball too far

and Larry promised me a kiss

the whole class there to see

I come from an apricot tree

in the heat of summer

until the fruit dropped

jam

on the lawn beside the roses

and we had to scoop it up

a gooey mess filled with bees

I come from love

a lucky one, Jackson

my dad would call me;

daughter

fishing in the Sierras

horseshoes on the lawn

potluck cold chicken in the heat

© Jackie Roberts 6/9/2018