I’m From

I’m from a Marine base built

on the backs of

billions of bugs,

stewed in humidity and heat.

We drove in front of a hurricane

to leave that place behind.

I’m from pink snapdragons

and purple morning glories

that called me Chatterbox.

Yards of open playground

as far as my little blues could see,

green grass stains on my knees.

I’m from smog that cut through

rubber, paint, and freeway glut.

Wind tunnel streets dimmed by buildings,

people packed in sardine cans,

so close, and yet alone,

a sea of nameless faces.

I’m from more than

four seasons, counting

tourist season.

Mountains, wind,

and endless sky,

this is where I’ll dig my grave.

published in Imogene's Notebook