I Am From Snow

Via Buffy I stumbled upon this writing exercise based on a poem by George Ella Lyons. Here is my take:

Where I'm From

I am from snow,
from Vaseline and mittens.
I am from the block atop the shopping mall.
Slanting middle balcony,
parking garage full of fumes.
I am from the white-stemmed birches,
the dark spruce trees
and rosy cheeks.

I am from blue eyes
and thick glasses,
from His Life, Landsverk and Blackvalley.
I am from the sobber-out-loud
and the having to lay down.
From shoulders back and please help.
I am from hallelujah and lifted hands high,
and coloring between pews
singing songs of glory.

I’m from Stovner and Strålesund,
cold milk and moose meat.
From the voyage my father made
and the scars of my mother
and fola, fola Blakken.
I’m from a barnfull of generations past
and hayloft with half-century hay for jumping
and finding shoe-lasts long forgotten.
Shod with scraps of memories
I am from a new beginning.