I am from school desks, Ford and Pine Sol.

I am from the house on the top of the hill, the one with the grass that won’t grow.

I am from the Pacific Ocean, creating fog in the morning, salt spray in your face, seaweed in your toes, tar on your feet.

I am from church on Saturday and long, straight hair,
from Esther, Margaret and Annie.

I am from long eyelashes, chubby toes, and five feet tall.

I am from uncompleted projects, guilt trips, and putting on a good face.

From "wear real shoes" and "laugh like a girl."

I am from Catholic school uniforms, white knee socks, blue cardigans.

I’m from San Pedro, tamales and beans.

From Grandma rode with Pancho Villa, Grandpa pressed into the Russian Army, the Uncle lost in the Korean War.

I am from scrapbooks in progess, old photos in a trunk, the best pictures in frames on display.

Where are you from?

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