Ballet and Fresh Buttered Biscuits

I am from big family dinners around a dark mahogany table

And our long, crowded conversations.

I am from making mud pies in my backyard

And blowing wishes with dandelions.

I am from my brother’s coy “you snooze, you lose”

And my mother’s sweet “come kiss us goodnight before you go to bed.”

I am from black fluffy skunk cats

And a beta fish named Rainbow.

I am from soccer games in the freezing rain

And c’mon-you-can-do-it family bike rides in the summer.

I am from searching for fairies on a moss-covered rock

And Santa Claus always finishing his milk and eating his cookies.

I am from black, tattered, and lilac-flowered family photo albums

And a torn blush-colored baby blanket.

I am from birdseed sticks at the zoo, my arm stretched out

And my uncle’s old red guitar being played out loud.

From melted popsicles and pigtails.

From ballet and fresh buttered biscuits.

From apple pie and poppies.

From peanut butter toast and a tiny black television.

I am from a family of four

And a chipped

green

stained

front door.

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