A dear friend signed me up for an online writing course recently called Finding Your Writing Voice. Last night I tackled the first assignment – Where I’m From. The goal was to create lists of words that reminded me of my childhood and the places and people from that time and then turn it into a sort of poem. So I turned on some Lynyrd Skynyrd and sat down in the middle of my living room floor and dug into a box of old photographs for inspiration.
I thought I’d share the result here.
I am from sunshine and moonshine,
from cigarettes and whiskey and Rolling Stones.
I am from red dirt and rainy Wednesdays,
from a prickly pear and a yellow rose.
I am from Native drumbeats and Highland Pipes,
from Fleetwood Mac and Silent Night.
I am from Budweiser and Sun Tea,
from pineapple pie and steaks on the grill.
I am from warm sprinkler water on hot concrete,
from red winter coveralls and ballet slippered feet.
I am from Mozart on worn piano keys and
Desperado on old stereos, from sequined tutus and and skinned up knees.
I am from homemade dresses and side pony tails,
from spy novels and Southern Bells.
I am from rock n’ roll hippies and prayerful hard working hands,
from light lost in darkness and feet that still choose to stand.
I am from creative spirits and stubborn minds,
from iron wills and all the lies in between.