Poetry / Roots

I am from crab grass,
Green clippings begged from neighbors.
Planted and watered, tended
To make a lawn.
I am from coleus, fuschia and emerald,
From coxcomb, fuzzy and ticklish,
From zennias in the middle and
Hollyhocks in the back.

I am from Sunday School in pinafores,
From black patent Mary Janes,
From the Old Rugged Cross,
And Praise the Lord, Amen.
I am from Sunday solos in quavery voice,
From Vacation Bible School verses,
Learned and rewarded with plaster fruit,
And a zippered White Bible from Mama.

I am from Spic and Span,
From white gloves,
From scrub brushes
Used on hands and knees.
I am from the lumber business
And the bullwhip that cracked.
I am from a smoke house that burned
Taking everything with it.

I am from grandparents
Married in Mena, Arkansas,
From parents married in Texas
And buried there, too.
I am from sisters who were beautiful
When I wasn’t,
And from brothers who were tall
To my short.

I am from farmers and lumbermen,
From native people and voyagers,
From canners and quilters,
And hard workers.
I am from memories and visions,
From Irish and Scots.
I am fulfillment
Of immigrant dreams.

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