I am From…

I am from basketballs; from Nintendo items and paint splatters.

I am from, the red brick house near the woods with the smell of beef stew coming from the kitchen.

I am from the cedar trees.

The pomegranate tree whose fruits and leaves long gone broken down adding memories into the dirt.

I am from potato pancakes and dancing under the Zilker tree on the cold winter nights of December,

from Robyn and Cathy.

I’m from Yiddish words, Deckfest, and from waffles on Sunday morning.

I’m from World War 2 stories and my moms stories of her childhood in New York and the Throw it Out the Window song.

I’m from Passover meals.

I’m from Austin “The Live Music Capital of the World” and Russian and Austrian ancestry.

From my great grandfather abandoning his own family coming to America.

I’m from the plates of my brothers birthday parties lining the wall.

I am from my beautiful home.

A Little White Flower

тнe нearт oғ a ғlower ιѕ a нearт oғ gold
ιтѕ warм and ғυzzy and nιce тo naтυre
тнιѕ ғlower нaѕ вeaυтιғυl pedalѕ
тнe color oғ wнιтe, a graceғυl, peaceғυl, and genтle color
тнe вeeѕ love тнιѕ ғlower вecaυѕe ιтѕ ѕo ѕweet
тнιѕ ғlower нaѕ ғearѕ тнoυgн
тнe ғear oғ geттιng тraмpled and dyιng ғroм geттιng pιcĸed υp and тнrown away
тнιѕ ғlower doeѕ noт ѕнow ιтѕ fear
ιт ѕнowѕ ιтѕ нappιeneѕѕ and ѕwayѕ ιn тнe wordѕ oғ coмplιмenтѕ oғ ιтѕ вeaυтy
now тнιѕ ιѕ a ѕpecιal ғlower one oғ a ĸιnd
no oтнer ғlower ιѕ lιĸe ιт
no oтнer perѕon ιѕ lιĸe ιт
now тнιѕ ғlower, ιѕ yoυ