Guilty of Attempted Poetry

I am from misty blue mountains, from Frozen Run Black Bear Birch Beer and bare feet.

I am from the lightning bugs hovering above the cornfield on a purple evening.

I am from the deep green woods, the stoney creek.

I am from bedtime stories and brown eyes, from Hannah and Lois and Blanche.

I am from the laughter and singing loudly.

From "If you've never made a mistake, you haven't done much." and "You're an old soul."

I am from tent meetings, youth group and loud worship music. From puppet ministry, Vacation Bible School and wishing for a mission trip.

I'm from Appalachia and Scots-Irish and German, ham pot-pie and whoopie pies.

From the green, worn path that led at gram' s white farm house everyday, the bobtail cats, and pap's still in his backyard shed.

I am from shoeboxes, picture frames and photo albums. Black and white pictures, sepia pictures, and faded 70's pictures filled with laugh crinkled eyes, crooked grins, ornery faces and grubby paws.

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