Branches

I am from rocks,
From Playmobil and Pokemon.
I am from the wood and stone house
(Bright, empty,
you could hear the spiders on the floor and the squirrels in the walls.)
I am from the Ponderosa trees,
their needles, pins and prickles on the forest floor.
I’m from hiking and green eyes,
From Izabela and Lee,
From movies and travels.
From be patient and eat faster.
I’m from Christmas Eve nights,
which fostered an understanding of religion.
I’m from the southwest and
branches that reach across the world,
rosoł and spaghetti.
From my dad’s dirty, Oklahoma roads
To snow drifting between the sickle and hammer.
A computer screen, that rests on that old wooden desk
It is an archive, of our lives, so picturesque.

– by Mateusz Drumm (16) Bicknell

Read more of this type of poetry in Where I Am From by Braydon Lee, or Roots by Timber Wood.