I am from an unlucky loving family,

From minds that tend to wonder absently.

I am from the street with the same name as my father,

From the soft, scented clothes washed by my mother.

I am from the joyful laughter of my only niece,

From the playful banter of both my sisters.

I am from the sweet, swaying apple tree in my yard,

From the fireplace that has been crisply charred.

I am from the buzz of bees near my garage,

From our reality that is a long montage.

I am from the one who gave me a chance to live,

From those acting like guardians who showed me how to thrive.

I am from the delicious homemade meals,

From the constant bickering of siblings and their deals.

I am from warm hearts that beat happily,

From the soothing soft smiles of a loving family.