I'm from walls painted like the light blue sky covering earth,

from a high, hardened hill who dared me to conquer its peak,

from cracked desert ground where I strut my two legs the first time,

from smooth beach strolls and blinding city lights.

I'm from a time without cousins,

from an infestation of reptiles in my backyard,

from saying “goodbye” to ones I loved, to saying “hello” to ones I didn’t,

from forgetting San Diego to learning Hartland.

I’m from a rough, rattling, rigorous plane ride,

from dirt and sand pillaging the air to snow falling and disappearing,

from palm trees swaying to pine needles plunging,

from family visiting to visiting family.

I’m from rattling earthquakes to swirling tornadoes,

from a sprawling ranch to an underground floor,

from crashing ocean waves to frosted frozen lakes,

from sizzling October days to numbing December nights.

I’m from walls of bricks climbing on top each other,

from a house I would call home,

from a fourth birthday in a place I barely knew,

from no sneaky, secretive siblings.

I’m from walls painted like the soft brown dirt they were forged on,

from rivers of rain in backyard fields,

from a cul de sac who knows everyone that lives within it,

from fishing trips and risky, river rapids.

I’m from fun-filled San Diego, CA, but home is peaceful Hartland, WI.