Where I’m From


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.

#personal #narrative #creativity #education


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