Where I’m From

I am from my home away from home. 

The view of the mountains on the balcony. 

From breathing in cool mountain air. 

I’m from the mountain breeze 

and the wind in my hair. 

 

I am from numbing fingers and toes. 

From bits of snow  

tapping my face on the slopes. 

I’m from feeling the cold wind  

on the chairlift. 

From snow in my coat. 

I am from turns and speed through the snow.  

 

I am from the warm smell of apple pie  

coming from grandma’s oven. 

The sweet taste of cool whip  

and frozen strawberries. 

From our favourite Murdoch Mysteries  

at 4:00 on tv. I’m from long chats with grandma  

about my friends and me. 

 

I am from the swing of the bat. 

The grip in my hands. 

From the thrill that surges through me 

 when I hit the ball. 

I am from the smack of the ball in my glove  

with the glory I feel. 

From sliding into home plate,  

that’s what I truly love. 

 

I am from the warmest feel-good cuddles. 

The touch of his rough paws. 

From his soft floppy ears, 

 and his loud howl in the morning light. 

The brush of his soft fur. 

From the way he sleeps next to me.  

I am from his wonderful joy, 

and the way he makes me so happy. 

 

I am from the swoop of the broom. 

The curl of the rock,  

and the crash of the knockout. 

I’m from the precision of the release. 

From my foot in the hack. 

I am from the concentration on sweeping, 

and all the joy it brings back.  

 

I am from the rattle of the palm trees. 

The crash of the waves. 

From the smell of salt in the breeze. 

The cool ocean water drifting over me. 

I am from the beautiful blue sea, 

 and the peace it brings to me.  

 

I am from happy moments,  

and also sad ones.  

From the people who made me who I am. 

The laugh my head off moments, 

and the cry my eyes out moments.  

I am from all the bright places.