My Son's Poem

My son wrote this poem and shared it with me tonight. He warned me before reading it that I would cry. He was right...

Where I am From

I am from a place of long beaches and soft sand,

from never ending oceans in every direction.

I am from aromas of sizzling Croquetas and Papa.

From intense heat and cool breezes,

fresh cut grass and orange baseball fields.

I am from the front seat of an 83 mustang,

twelve hour drives and welcome signs every three hours.

From pencil marks on the door,

and rain drops falling outside my window.

I am from my grandmother’s living room,

fresh lavender and violets.

I am from beeps and dogs barking,

heavy traffic and anger.

I am from a place of freedom,

where I have only my freedom.

I am from towns like Gatlinburg, Tennessee,

Where fireworks, people, happiness and fun can be felt many new years later.

I am from massive pools and water parks,

From salsa music to Angus Young’s electric guitar.

I am from a cul-de-sac and pavement,

And my scarlet bicycle and a yellow fire hydrant.

I am from a broken boat lost at sea,

with hours of work and fiber glass.

The cuts and blood put in,

Along with the sanding and building.

I am from annoying Cuban restaurants,

with hundreds of customers.

From those long road trips with Elton John and Pearl Jam,

and only the night sky and a dark figure to keep me company.