Echo poem

This poem is my version of George Ella Lyon's.

This is a first draft...and it's less of a poem that could reach outsiders than it is a poem from the insides of me. Those who know me will get it. For those who don't, I may try to revise it and make a better poem of it one of these days.


Where I’m From
~Allison C. Snyder

I am from spice soup,
from Artists at Work Day and Anne’s figurines.
I am from worms in a coffee can.
(Black dirt, ground up leaves,
and instant multiplying.)
I am from the elephant ear leaves
the raspberry bushes
a blackberry tree at the end of DuBois
that stained the sidewalk and our toes.

I’m from piano lessons and ballet,
from Aunt Marge and Mrs. Schwaller.
I’m from the top five list makers
and the mother hens,
from Wear your turtleneck! and Keep your feet warm!
I’m from no we can’t have a creche,
we don’t believe in that.
But Christmas Eve we go to Congress Park Methodist.

I’m from Bass Lake,
homemade fireworks and fish fries.
From the sweaty hot kitchen – two feet too small –
to the cool oily water,
the jam-crammed family at every holiday.

Kneeling in the garden,
I helped mom pull carrots,
helped Dad water flowers.
Our back porch was a Barbie wonderland.
I’m from follow after Lauren –
wish to be like Karen –
perfect companions with Jake.


[Notes: Grew up in Illinois; went every summer to our lake cottage on Bass Lake in Indiana with the whole family. Grew up with my cousins, Karen and Jake, and saw them all the time. I have one older sister Lauren.] 2.23.09

~Ally