I’m from a tree with many branches
I am from the Crabapple fair and the cakewalk and the goldfish swimming in plastic bags
I’m from the PeeWee baseball and the May Pole,
from Cowboys and Indians, and treehouse forts and pinecone wars,
Tall dirtpiles and dark kudzu ditches
I’m from brown woodpile snakes, and witches’ brew, and six Ghosts
from tv trays and the bucking pony and yellow jackets in the air conditioner
I’m from a gravel lane walked to the place where the sheep ate my red jacket,
And where the spaniels are biblical Cains and Abels
I’m from chicken pox and ice storms
from Suspicious Minds and the pall over the house the day Mama cried over Elvis dying
I’m from roadmaster-skinned knees, and the fear over the park bridge
I’m from the day my world got bigger
I am Evelyn, Mary Etta, Mattie, Horace
I’m Butlers and Richardsons and Denmarks
From the ghost towns of Ft. Stewart and Forsyth Park
I’m from building Liberty ships and working at the Bag.
I am Walter and the orphans of Coffee County
Lena Mae, Hugh, John L., Mary, Carl, and baby George who never made it
I am savaged by sickness and split asunder
I am lost birthright and living on the charity of family
I am from eating chicken necks on the porch
and sleeping in the barn when the preacher came
I’m the moccasin in the pig sty and the bike chain
I am the shiny apple on a train making a boy’s mouth water and
I am the change burning a whole in a traveler’s pocket
I’m from hunger and a desire to prove myself
I am a yearning to go back
somewhere I never lived at all
I’m from Palmers and Smiths and Butlers and Dunstans
Who came from