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A room with a new view



Took my writing outside today -- even farther than my front yard. Tossed my laptop into the car and drove to the Windsor Castle parking lot. (Yes, I KNOW I could have walked the trail to get there, but I was eager to get on with the writing.) Set up my laptop on a table in the brand new picnic area and had the whole place to myself. Used my computer's camera to snap these photos of my surroundings. Lovely lovely day -- if a little bit sneezy!

It's National Poetry Month, so...



Where I'm From

by Kim Norman

Inspired by George Ella Lyon's poem "Where I'm from"

I am from
Maine mosquitos and Virginia creeper.
From loon and lobster,
kudzu and Kayro.
I am from pepper flecked corn chowder
and golden fried okra.
And for dessert,
patience,
whether the wait is for
steaming Indian pudding
or freezing pecan praline, home-churned.

I am from
Pink Pearl erasers and Luden's cough drops.
From September books,
stiff-spined and ink scented,
grown floppy soft and pinky smudged by June.
I am from summer sundresses and summer reading lists,
from Pooh Corner and E.B. White,
yellow roads and black stallions.
I am from card catalogs
and nickel fines on golden tickets
too precious to release.

I am from boy pranks
like
salted slugs writhing on sidewalks,
screaming cicadas tethered on strings,
or a tiny Cuban lizard flashing out of sight,
leaving its twitching tail in my surprised fingers.
I am from chess and Chinese checkers,
from battleships and "Do not pass Go."
I'm from Saturday morning cinnamon toast,
with Stooges and cartoons,
and from Sunday night popcorn
with Mickey and Walt.

I'm from Huntley and from Brinkley,
from Cambodia and Camelot,
from Dodge and Virginia City.
I am from the moon, ("One small step for a man,")
and from space, ("Danger, Will Robinson!")

I'm from diaries and Beta tapes,
records, 8-tracks and cassettes.
I am bound in books, boxes and baby clothes.
I am from these things, in these things,
whether remembered, forgotten or forsaken.
I have outgrown the sundresses but not the sun.
Nor the books...
Even if I give them away,
or pay the fines and return them,
I live on
in the stories.

###

This my the first in a planned trio of poems based on George Ella Lyon's remarkable poem, "Where I'm from." The next two will likely cover young adulthood and motherhood. (Maybe it will become a 4-part series, if I get ambitious in my old age -- not so long from now!) Click HERE to read Ms. Lyon's original poem, which inspired my own.

Oh and, ps -- the above photo is one I took during the winter of 2010 on the new Windsor Castle trail. Okay, I'll admit the "yellow brick" is a little Photoshop trickery!