I am from the Saint Cloud Manor of home is whenever I’m with you.
I am from the splintered oaks and the lush pecans,
Whose long gone limbs I remember as if they were my own.
I’m from Pentecostal revival and Baptist guilt from Joan Estelle and Irish roots.
I’m from strong will and soft grace,
and from maybe a little too much liquor to wash it all down.
I’m from worthless and worthy.
And “Just a little talk with Jesus.”
I am from voicing the voiceless, loving the unlovable and seeking God first.
From best friend husband and Mother of two boys.
I’m from Christmas presents on Christmas Eve’s eve.
I’m from Arkadelphia and Scotland/England/Ireland mutts.
From gravy steaks and fried potatoes.
I’m from Mary Sue in the 1950s -- Fun and fancy free in the city.
Black and white snapshots of hidden hot springs and late nights.
Stashed away in a box, lost in the clutter.