All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Keitha
May 18, 2010
I am from a dead end.
I am from where that street
jumps into sprawling bends.
Where I’m from has been banished
behind a wooden privacy fence.
I am from the cherry blossoms
umbrellaed over the yard.
I am from the top of its branches,
clambering over its pale limbs,
I was hoisted by its hands and arms.
I am from the memories,
pleasant in their frames.
Dappled in the shade of leaves,
recalling childhood games.
Romping through the trees,
play feral children with raw knees.
I am from that pack.
I am from that past.
Similar Articles
Previous Next
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
