Poetry, Uncategorized

Where I am From….

Me, at age 15. My brother took the photo, and we developed  it in his home darkroom. 











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Sometimes it’s fun to write a poem based on a pattern some otherpoet used. This one is based on George Ella Lyon. She is a wonderful poet. Hereis my version.
Where I am From…
I am from the red house, near tothe corner of Clinton and Third.
I am from two parents who lovedeach other and their children.
I am from the “farm” wheresummers shaped my feelings about land, open spaces, and New England.
I am from the Dutch grandparentswho cooked and baked sweet Dutch treats each Sunday.
I am from those Americans whocannot gaze upon Lady Liberty with dry eyes.
I am from the home with cats,laughter, and many, many books.
I am from times of struggle,little money, few nice things.
I am from the father who stood atour front door refusing to sign a petition to keep a Black family from buyingthe house next door, telling them to their face that they were wrong. “anybodycan buy a house if they can afford it,” he told the man.
I am from the river, the brook,the bay, the sunrise on the Penobscot, the loon on the lake, thunderous waveson sharp rocks.
Now, I am the mosaic of my past,one rich in places, the treasures of my travels, the friendship ties to faraway shores.
All these, and especially thememories, keep my heart warm.
 
w.c. kasten, copyright 2009, all rights reserved.

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