I Am From Hammer and Nails

I am from hammer and nails, from Avon and fishing poles.

I am from the cool feel of the big stone porch on a hot summer day
where the sound of laughter and the clink of dishes makes you know that you are safe.
I am from brick.


I am from the pine tree's and the aspen whispering in the soft mountain wind,
from the purple lilac's and buzzing bees.
I am from the wild spring onions that leave their taste in the fresh cow's milk.

I am from 4th of July sparklers,
Strong Women,
lumber yards
and crackling fires.

I am from the love of Rolin and Leoma,
the strength of Toot and Shirley,
and the storms of Tommy and Janice.

I am from shallow pockets and deep love.
From This too shall pass and Rise and shine in the early morning.

I am from vacation Bible school
with the smell of glue and Mom next door teaching a class.
From cherry trees and hot August days at the county fair.

I am from Cricket Flat and Denmark,
Alaska and England.
From pumpkin pie and biscuits.



From the young man who drowned in the Grande Ronde River,
the Grandmother who tossed the Christmas tree out the window
and from the woman who longed to be a writer.


I am from a dusty cardboard box in the attic, letters under the bed, and from diaries lost long ago.

I am from the carpenter and the country girl.

*Tipper had her version of this poem on her site, Blind Pig & the Acorn. I loved it and followed her links to the site with the format to make my own. Go here and here to read more.