We Are From
Eighth Grade
We are from an old, squeaky diving board,
creaking and shifting as we jump.
We are from learning that everything is going to change.
We are from crazy, funny, caring families.
We are from arts and crafts
from the moment we could walk,
sitting on the ground writing in chalk.
We are from family board games where no one yields,
from realizing that losing is learning.
We are from summers in the Pocono Mountains,
where the sun lingers long,
to winters in a small city
where the sun sets before you know it.
We are from salt on our skin
and boards riding the waves,
from early mornings when the ocean is quiet.
We are from waves that knock us down
and teach us to rise again.
We are from fields of coaches’ voices,
pushing us forward.
We are from the square mile—
the mile we’ve learned in,
the mile we’ve made memories in,
the mile we’ve pursued our hobbies in,
the mile where we’ve made friends.
That is where we are from.
We are from sunflowers,
grown from seeds to tall stalks
and bright petals.
We are from places where baseball is highly competitive,
where the game began at the heart—
the moments that shape our passion.
We are from the slopes of Vermont’s highest peaks
to the salty waters of warm beaches—
the moments that build our love for the outdoors.
We are from siblings,
who, despite the bickering, we love so much.
We are from our moms’ plants,
bringing good vibes and coziness to our homes.
We are from “Ol’ Blue Eyes.”
We are from the tent—
sleeping bags and spiders,
a leaky roof in the rain,
waking to a mosquito buzzing
and morning dew on the grass.
We are from parents who love and care for us,
from lifelong friendships we will never forget.