Sarah B. 5G

I Am From…

I am from the cold-hearted seahorse, frozen in place on my shelf, forever staring. I am from the fuzzy frog, the one that serves as my pillow, helping me sleep; I am from the stiff heartless lizard on the wall, to the cello resting in the living room, eager for the next practice.

I am from the lonely violet purple ball, confined in solitude, to the pesky bugs, munching on the grass that was so hard to grow. I am from the weeping cherry tree’s gentle arms, flowing gently in the wind, creating a peaceful sight.

I am from the picnic spot, nestled in a rock, the only place I can talk privately, in this busy world. I am from the baseball field, a nice place to unwind by jogging, the bent tree in the middle of the woods, creating a perfect place for a meeting place to talk with friends.

I am from ‘Sarah, time to get up,’ like if I don’t know that already. To ‘I’ll see you once I get home from work,’ I know I will see you and I know where you are, still friendly reminders!

I am from Grandpa Sal, he always had something nice to say, and I am from Grandpa Boat, he was always very kind to me, and I miss the rocking of the boat he lived on.

I am from sweet potato casserole, the kind with the big, gooey marshmallows in it. I am from the steaming hot turkey, and the hopeful face of my cat, to the warm French toast, which draws a smile to everyone’s face.

I am from a hidden spot in the woods, where birds chirp all day, and my baseballs, ready to be handed to a loyal dog. I am from the small corner in my room, where a box sits on a blanket of dust that contains my most prized position, a small pink photo album, with pictures of me and my family so many long, wonderful years ago.