I’m From All This; By: Ciara Bowen

I am from books stacked so high they topple over, a sacred spot on my dresser for the Harry Potter series, pieces of hay clinging to hoodies and jeans, my photography framed in my room, artwork preserved in plastic page protectors, pencils and papers, cat toys scattered through every room, horses, and cowboy boots laying wherever they were pulled off.

I am from pine trees and the smell of their needles as the fall, old halters, lead ropes, and a mounting block, apple trees and rose bushes.

I am from nickers and neighs, neighbors who don’t speak much and neighbors who help catch horses when they break the fence, a pack of wild dogs who kill the cats in the area.

I am fro Memaw Kathi and Papa Dick in Tennessee, from Meme and Papa, Uncle Rob at the race track, Aunt Jennie and Aunt Kris. I am a Sis and a C.

I am from “Don’t let your grades drop,” “You are going to college,” “Clean your room,” “Put the book down, turn off the light, and go to sleep,” my sister arguing over who’s turn it is to have the bathroom first, “I want the front seat!”, and “I told you so.”

I am from turkey with stuffing, deviled eggs, green-bean casserole, lemon cake, red beans and rice, pecan pie, and sweet tea.

I am from the wood that makes up Moon’s stall, from memories that sometimes seem like a dream, from boxes hidden in my closet, and diaries disguised on my bookshelf.


Posted on March 7, 2012, in Ciara Bowen, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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