Poem by Susan Aylward

I am from…

I am from Paris via Quebec, Northern Ireland, 
Massachusetts, a carpenter in Wales,

I am from Bridgeport, cousins,
pajamas at the drive-in,
dodge ball in the road,

I am from hotdog-chocolatemilk-frenchfries,
when dad was home on leave,
Chubby Checker, A Hard Day’s Night, 

I am from dot candy and porcelain elephants,
traded for giggles and hugs,
sugar snow-balls eaten in the shopping cart,

I am from, she always had a smile on her face,
the best mistake she ever made,
peering over, into her Cadillac front seat,
“it’s a great life if you don’t weaken”,
and her cow bell in the night, harkening, 
bring the nitro,

i am from sin-twisters,
kissing-cousins, 
Liddle Kiddles,
Pippi Longstocking,

I am from dark waters of Long Island Sound,
fleeing man-of-war,  
minuscule beach frogs,
barefoot on seawall rocks,
sunburns, sunfish, lemon ice,

I am from Abby Road
for having a sore throat,
sharing Valentine candies,

I am from Little Women, Little Men,
by flashlight, and
dancing to Stevie,

I am from secret passageway,
goldfish races, silhouettes,
pink feather pen, cigarettes,

I am from wanting, not believing,
confusion, not achieving,
nightmares, humiliation,
lack of preparation

I am from, keep going, step up,
keep going, for the sake of life itself,
and hugging gently, so as not to hurt one another,

I am from tracing my mother and grandmother’s hands
while oiling the pie-crust table, and the secretary,

    and from cousins, and clutching dear
all I had thought I did not need,
and mincing for memories,

I am from constellations by hot tub steam,
Ghost Ranch and O’Keeffe,
pink aspens of twilight,
Leonard Cohen, gratitude at night.