Winter is the time to hunker down and write poems. Here are two to end January.

I am From

Gracyn Dwyer

I am from lighthouses and hurricanes,

from Winnie the Pooh and Barbie.

I am from Dogwoods along the backyard fence, whose flowers brushed my freckled nose. 

I am from the little yellow playhouse and daddy’s matching workshop, 

whose corners I liked to hide and seek. 

I am from creme pies and game night, 

from Faith and O’Dwyer.

I’m from the thrill seekers and travellers, 

from give it your all or don’t do it.

I’m from I Will Trust in You, small group at 7. 

I’m from the Cape Fear and Cherokees, 

potatoes and ice cream.

From the heart that Mac received from Paul,

to the day that he grew his wings.  

I’m from harder, faster, stronger, 

run as one, work as a team, finish as a family. 

I’m from my brown-eyed girl, sittin’ on the dock of the bay,

dress up with dad and spa day with mom. 

I’m from a personalized home, a family of three. 

I Am From

By Elliot Tueller

I’m from soft snow, salt lakes, and singing

I am from blistering heat, baked, sun beams blazing

I am from picking from masses the few

And I’m from making the most with my small crew.

I’m from weekly meetings Sundays and Wednesdays

Ever since birth with churchgoers I’d play

I am from suburbs and indoors

Then to riding my bike in the outdoors

I’m from Night games at nightfall and sleeping at sunrise

Sunbeams fill the room, and alert my tired eyes.

I am from hardships and helplessness, I’m from happiness and health

If I don’t go with the flow, does that mean I need help?

Where I’m from many of our stories are the same

Similar expectations and a similar frame

Remembering too far back is both a joy and a pain

But my past is my frame, and for myself I should play this game.

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