"I Am From" by Crosley Brammer

I am from pasta,

from bow ties and angel hair.
I am from the tea in the teapot.
I am from the dill in the garden.
(Tall, breezy it smells like summer.)
I am from the plumb tree,
round and juicy.
I am from West Virginia and one-room log cabins,
from the Brammers and the Glovers,
I am from the latecomers and neighbors at the dinner table,
from the cars in the sky and get your monkey butt in bed.
I am from being created in the image of God
with a Bible verse every Sunday,
and a Christmas play every year.
I am from Cincinnati and Mifflin Creek,
soy butter and corn bread in milk.
From the bean tree my grandmother fell out of
into the creek and down to the Little Blue River,
the bed my father laid in while sick.
I am from the trunk on the living room floor,
filled with childhood memories, my mother’s graduation,
and my baby brother’s birth.
I am from these pictures,
just like a leaf from a tree.