Where I'm From Poem

"Where am I from?" I ask myself quietly. Hmmm. I think I know the answer now.

I am from yellow walls, big white sheets, and sunny raining days.

I am from the big oak trees that reach up the hold the sky, the ones that sway at the top and stay firm at the bottom, just like everyone else.

I am from the eternal stacks of books, piled on the floor and stashed in hidden places like secrets.

I am fromm big lawns, porches and potting soil, from cul-de-sacs and dead-end streets.

I am from the staircase: Forts, stages, bruises.

I am from the medicine cabinet, the promo pens, and the hospital pillowcases.

I am from "Katie-bug" and just plain "Kate". From the good morning hugs and good night kisses, and from the way the lullaby music danced in the bedroom night.

I am from the shining white carpet patch of my younger days, and from the way I smile when I move the furniture to see that carpet.

-Katie T. 8th Grade