after George Ella Lyon
I am from playing cards
from euchre and pinochle and
of course from solitaire
From lilacs in spring and cardinals in winter
and the fresh deck of cards in my
grandmother’s coffin
I am from Hedwig, two Florences,
and one Big Ed,
and three successive purebred
collies, all named Gypsy
From clarinets and needlepoint
and peanut brittle made at home
I am from too many places – and so,
from no place
Except, perhaps, the whole Midwest:
Land of Lincoln and Buffalo Bill,
flat plain and rolling river,
“Yes, There Really Is A Kalamazoo” and
“Is This Heaven? No, It’s Iowa”
I am from dry humor
and mangled punchlines
From RVs and roller coasters
and “making memories”
From casual games of bridge
and ruthless games of cribbage
I am from meatloaf and tomato skillet casserole
From the girl who loved to read
who chose marriage over college,
and from the girl who loved to sing
who didn’t choose
I am from boxes of unlabeled slides,
from family heirlooms and photographs
stolen by a second wife,
from stories told and retold
around kitchen tables–
the shuffle and cut of memory
as it is dealt and played
poem (c) 2016 D. Ohlandt
please only reprint in entirety and with credit given
#40for40
this poem inspired by George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From”
http://www.georgeellalyon.com/where.html