Where I’m from

Xanthe Yorke

I am from the place the desert and ocean meet
from sunblock instead of lotion.
I am from the big yellow house,
with exactly thirty-one big windows.

I am from the vegetable garden in the back.
It smelled of mangoes and oranges,
with a hint of sea salt.
I am from the palm trees and cacti,
growing in the yard.

I’m from the family that laughs too loud,
and cooks a meal for their dogs.
I am from a hippie mother
and a former uptight father.

I’m from the family that takes recycling seriously,
and sends their kids away for school.
I’m from parents who call everyday.
I am from full summer heat, even in May.

I am from bedtime stories and tea,
from camping trips on the beach.
I’m from parents who never grounded me,
but insisted on talking it out.

I’m from skateboard races down a big hill,
from reggae concerts and getting home at three.
I’m from a house that doesn’t have many rules.
From a place where you can go hiking and surfing,
all in the same day

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