I Am From

I am from Windex

from glass table tops and dost motes afloat, lit by sun streaming in from outside

I am from the white brick house on the cul-de-sac

with iron bars on the windows and shiny, zebra-striped wallpaper in the entry hall

I am from the cactus garden out front,

the ornamental cherry tree in the side garden whose long gone limbs

I remember as if they were my own

I’m from reading aloud and sharp minds and sharper tongues

from Jack and Linda, Nola and Paul, Myrtle and Ernest too

I’m from Mommy getting mad and Daddy working late

and from the Pancake House on Sunday mornings

I’m from “You’re driving me crazy!” and “Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about!”

and “How do I hate thee?  Let me count the ways….”

I’m from driving around to see the Christmas Lights

I’m from Texas and Big D

Shake-‘N-Bake and Chef Boy-R-Dee

From Grandma bursting into tears at the dining room table because Grandpa gave her a bigger and better diamond ring for their anniversary one year

and the placid orange Buddha serene on the étagère in the hall.