A proud papa
Devon's doing a poetry unit in school--which pleases her to no end and plays to her strengths.
So I have to share one that she wrote. The assignment was to write a poem about where you're from:
Where I’m From
I am from paint brushes,
From Costco and mountain spring scented fabric softener
I am from the cat mural, painted like a portal,
Into the land of my fantasy, my life, and my love, when I was still unborn
I am from the honey suckle, intertwined on our fence like a lingering friendship,
And the big alligator cedar growing by the picnic rock, shade in the brown and sweltering forest.
I am from secret ingredients on Saturday,
And thick curl, that surprised us when it rained. From Suzie, Carrot Nama (Barbara was her real name), and Lyman Frank Baum (The real wizard of Oz)
From “Beam me up Scotty” and “Ah, Bach” jokes no one gets but us.
From never stop asking questions, and do what is right (despite those republicans) I have always wished my head could have everything that straight forward
I am from you make your own luck and fate is what you think it is, and that “But maybe” on everyone else and what they think
I am from Santa Fe and unwilling reminiscence from Kentucky,
Green chili enchiladas, and sopapillas, whose thin shell mixed with too much honey won me a new outfit when I was seven
From hitting the middle school referee with your purse, and the girl that hung out in coffee shops until two in the morning
I am from shoe boxes full of yellowing pictures that my mom tried to put into an album,
And great grandmas quilt that she made herself, sitting remembered in the polished hope chest that will one day be mine, mixed patches only slightly faded.
I am from family values and being tucked in mommy’s arms when I need it most,
A falling blueberry, seeds sprouting not so far from the bush,
Everything I want twisted in the branches of what I already have.
- Devon Siokahn Mercer, May 2009
So I have to share one that she wrote. The assignment was to write a poem about where you're from:
Where I’m From
I am from paint brushes,
From Costco and mountain spring scented fabric softener
I am from the cat mural, painted like a portal,
Into the land of my fantasy, my life, and my love, when I was still unborn
I am from the honey suckle, intertwined on our fence like a lingering friendship,
And the big alligator cedar growing by the picnic rock, shade in the brown and sweltering forest.
I am from secret ingredients on Saturday,
And thick curl, that surprised us when it rained. From Suzie, Carrot Nama (Barbara was her real name), and Lyman Frank Baum (The real wizard of Oz)
From “Beam me up Scotty” and “Ah, Bach” jokes no one gets but us.
From never stop asking questions, and do what is right (despite those republicans) I have always wished my head could have everything that straight forward
I am from you make your own luck and fate is what you think it is, and that “But maybe” on everyone else and what they think
I am from Santa Fe and unwilling reminiscence from Kentucky,
Green chili enchiladas, and sopapillas, whose thin shell mixed with too much honey won me a new outfit when I was seven
From hitting the middle school referee with your purse, and the girl that hung out in coffee shops until two in the morning
I am from shoe boxes full of yellowing pictures that my mom tried to put into an album,
And great grandmas quilt that she made herself, sitting remembered in the polished hope chest that will one day be mine, mixed patches only slightly faded.
I am from family values and being tucked in mommy’s arms when I need it most,
A falling blueberry, seeds sprouting not so far from the bush,
Everything I want twisted in the branches of what I already have.
- Devon Siokahn Mercer, May 2009