Where I'm From
(Source)
After reading Where I'm From by George Ella Lyon, I chose a line that resonated with me the most and then created my own poem.
From Lyon:
From the finger my grandfather lost to the auger, the eye my father shut to keep his sight.
My father was an artist. I witnessed him take his last breath on 12/17/08 at 9:40 p.m. In the spirit of mourning my father’s death, this is what I came up with:
I am from my father’s hands lost in the strokes of oily painted white mountains, from the heart he held to stop the attack, from hardened pale fingers I touched that were unfamiliar. From the shadow that moved curtains when it was over.
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