The Reality of Origin

I am from artificial sugar packets,

From diet Peach Snapple and magazine clippings.

I am from the cozy little apartment at the Creekside.

I am from pink roses and the Maple tree whose long gone limbs

I remember as if they were my own.

I am from Italian desserts on Christmas mornings and a family of captivating green eyes,

Loving others unconditionally.

I am from a place where not many travel,

For fear that they will lose theirselves.

I am from describing colors to a blind man

and parking lot games outside the supermarket on warm days.

I’m from Central New York with a strong Italian heritage,

From pasta and multi- colored cookies.

I am from perseverance and making the most out of what you are given.

Most importantly, I am from ashes on the shelf above the wooden ducks and glass birds that set me free.