Where Am I From?

Where am I from? There is no single answer.

I am from the empty playhouse, the lost and forgotten dreams.

I am from summer sun on the carpet,the dirty dog on the couch.

From cloudy beaches and blinding ski slopes, from yard work in the rain.

I come from "times up" and "my turn" and from long days spent on a tractor.

From canned salmon on the window-sill and the now-flat ball in the mud

I am from the unseen arguments and entire evenings ruined by a single word.

From reading the same book again and again and the raging anger after everyone has gone to bed.

I am from the calm before the storm, knowning and fearing what it must weather before calm settles again.

I am from family.

I come from wherever the ripples are meeting and the flames are leaping.

I come from sadness, I come from joy.

I am.

-Miles V. 8th Grade