Where I'm from, Jenny

I am from biscuits and gravy,
from Massey Ferguson, and dandelions.
I am from the breeze on the sun porch
(sweet, warm, it smelled like happiness)
I am from the crabapple tree and
Gumballs in the grass,
whose Prickles still sink into my feet on a hot summer day.

I am from homemade Christmas cookies
And long chins,
from Big’un, From Sweet Pea, and from Hoss.
I am from the hand-me-downs and the jabber-jaws
From Sit Up! And Take it outside!
I’m from Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
And hymns for every woe.

I’m from Brushy Hollow,
Sweet tea and hotdogs.
From the top secret missions of my Grandfather
And the time my Grandmother
knew the culprit before he did.

I am from the box of “keeps” on the coffee table,
Containing pictures of more people
I was related to than I could shake a stick at.
I am from those people,
alive hundreds of years before
I was a gleam in my daddy’s eye.