Where I'm From Poem (Revised)

Where I’m From

                                                       

 I am from those fights over the last pop-tart,

 From the scent of warm vanilla clinging to our clothes.

 I am from the breezy beach and snow topped hill.

 Pleasant, jumbled it felt like sunshine.

I am from prize winning star gazer lilies,
From the sprouting tulips the morning of May Crowning, 

The wilting pink rose I cut for my mother one chilly October. 
I am from the pricker bush, a rose among thorns. 

I’m from the early hung holiday decorations and honest blue eyes,

The crowded family car trips, the ongoing stream of soccer games,
The dimples I don't have but get to look at everyday, 

I’m from the united front and the chaos behind the scenes.

From becoming the big sister, again, again, again, and again. 

I’m from guardian angels, strong faith in the life after life. 

I’m from scrapped knees and stubborn determination,

To letting the raspberries stain my fingers right off the bush.

From the camp ground that became stomping ground,

Where cousins became playmates, though now they're silent strangers.

From the empty house near that snow topped hill that become full again

The day my daddy came home from our breezy beach. 

Hiding in the cupboard behind the broken door,

Overflowing the Rubber Maid containers, 
Smile upon smile, in one big mess 

Lay these stories of memories past.

The faces, the places; the pictures.

I am from those half forgotten remembrances.

I am still their “Kar-girl”, 
But I'm more than that shy little thing with blunt bangs.