Where I’m From

I am from tree lined streets, Black Jack gum 
and icy cold coke bottles stacked in a vending machine.
I am from a tidy house with grey trim, the smell of green grass warm in the sun, 
from abundant fruit picked from backyard trees; plums, figs, avocados and loquats.
I am from the mountain foothills rugged, steep and shrouded in smog; 
from rattlesnakes in the gutter and coyotes trotting the streets at dawn.
I am from summer beaches, tanning oil and transistor radios.  
I am from lemon fights in abandoned orchards, forts built in fields and running in sprinklers. 
I am from Wassel and Albers, emotional fighters and reserved farmers; 
I am from a professor father who taught me to be honest 
and a homemaker mother who sewed all my clothes.
From a stamp collector and a lover of books.
I am from The Black Stallion and Little Women.  
I am from the smell of horses on my skin and chlorine in my hair.
Iā€™m a California native from Hungarian and German stock, hurka, cobass, sauerkraut and dill.  
Iā€™m from avocado on toast and fresh bakery bread smeared with butter; 
From dirt and sand and sun.

11 thoughts on “Where I’m From

  1. You sound like my kinda gal!! I loved this post. And thanks for visiting my blog the other day…loved the comment! I wanna come and play at your house, swim in the pool, ride horseback through that abandoned lemon orchard…sounds good!

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