I am from hex signs,
from Sturgis and Lebanon balogna.
I am from carpenter ants (black, hearty, like moving bits of blackberries along the front porch ).
I am from the torrential summer rains, the still waters of Bernhart’s Dam.
I am from diet Coke and prozac,
from Rachel and Leah.
I am from the laugh when you fall and the pick-you-up when you’ve fallen.
From be nice and damn, I’m good.
I am from He is Risen! Families are Forever and I’m trying to be like Jesus.
I'm from Wernersville and Kutztown
Tastykakes and pork-n-sauerkraut, eaten every New Year’s Day so that the year is filled with luck
From the great-grandfather who lifted 100-lb barrels of pickles,
the grandmother who lifted elderly patients from beds to wash and bathe them .
I am from notebooks of names carefully gathered and documented—the settlers of New York, the farmers of the Midwest and the Germans of Pennsylvania, the land grant owners of New Mexico—
names plucked and preserved from the fruit of my family tree.
