Where I'm From

I am from tree lined streets, Black Jack gum 

and icy cold coke bottles stacked in a vending machine.

I am from a tidy house with grey trim, the smell of green grass warm in the sun, 

from abundant fruit picked from backyard trees; plums, figs, avocados and loquats.

I am from the mountain foothills rugged, steep and shrouded in smog; 

from rattlesnakes in the gutter and coyotes trotting the streets at dawn.

I am from summer beaches, tanning oil and transistor radios.  

I am from lemon fights in abandoned orchards, forts built in fields and running in sprinklers. 

I am from Wassel and Albers, emotional fighters and reserved farmers; 

I am from a professor father who taught me to be honest 

and a homemaker mother who sewed all my clothes.

From a stamp collector and a lover of books.

I am from The Black Stallion and Little Women.  

I am from the smell of horses on my skin and chlorine in my hair.

I’m a California native from Hungarian and German stock, hurka, cobass, sauerkraut and dill.  

I’m from avocado on toast and fresh bakery bread smeared with butter; 

From dirt and sand and sun.