SPEAKING TO YOU

I am from worn, claw footed, wooden tables

that have experienced so much they seem sentient

I am from evictions and moving counties twice a year

I am from the stuffed Pooh Bear I’ve had since I was born

the one that’s sitting on the bed in my dorm room

I am from alcoholism and strong hips on my father’s side

Chronic Depression and frail bones on my mother’s

the women in her family have a habit of shrinking

moving to make room for the men in their lives

I am from a Dutch chocolatier

who came to America with nothing but the clothes on his back

and $60 in his pocket

I am from microwavable mac and cheese

Cigarette smoke, horse manure and the smell of an auto body shop

I am from blue forget-me-nots and green shutters

the pale pink roses in my grandmother’s garden

I am from “My Way or the Highway”

And the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb

I am from Pennsylvania

A 50 year old child and an Army Brat