Where you’re from

 

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Source.

 

Yesterday at our Bible study social we swapped our growing-up stories in the form of a popular creative writing exercise adapted from George Ella Lyon’s poem “Where I’m from”. Basically, you crib the “Where I’m from” poem and enter your own information. Gratitude Gal wrote a post about it, which includes a template and some examples.

“I am From”
by Lee Botha

I am from library shelves,
from BMX bikes and tepid Oros.
I am from the sunny spot on carpet floors
(gauzy, distilled,
stirring in hot breezes.)
I am from willow trees,
ropy branches swaying secret worlds of shade.
I’m from milktart and big bellies
from Flip and Nicoleen.
I’m from the Wednesday night braais and April holidays.
from “Money doesn’t grow on trees” and
“Don’t hit your cousins!”
I’m from Sunday school classes, reluctantly attended.
I’m from Delmas, Warmbad, Krugersdorp, Heidelberg,
from apple pie and Ricoffy,
from the father dead at age fifty
and the sister whose funeral I remember in red dust.
Family albums yellow in the closet,
chronicling big hair and Ford motorcars and family dogs,
telling stories about people I’ve known my whole life
and never met.

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