WHERE I'M FROM
WHERE I'M FROM ...the first twenty years
I am from a hatchet, from a saxophone and a Living Bible.
I am from a house built with my own little hands, Alva's and Marcene's too.
I am from the lambs quarter before summer heat, the black berry bushes after the 4th of July.
I am from story telling and teasing, from Grandma Beulah and brother Alva and sister Marcene.
I am from frank candor and an Ozark turn of phrase.
From not getting enough attention and not worrying about what other people think.
I am from Cumberland Presbyterian church camp and Sunday School, from searching for a denomination to call home.
I'm from the Ozarks, roastin' ears, and cornbread-n-milk.
From the stock of Bert who preached and farmed and even became a vet, from the stock of Ross who worked hard and sacrified for his family, and the likes of Beulah who served her LORD and her family.
I am from rocky, dusty hills that's been in the family for years, but its...