This is where I came from this house, these trees, these gardens, these parents, this brother, these dogs, their poops used to fertilize the shrubs, this driveway gravel registering the movement of cars arriving, departing, this garage with the red Rambler, where I get this rake to pull together a huge mound of leaves from the maple and then jump in, and this lilac from which we take cuttings to bring the sweet smell inside, and this weeping willow that could hide me when I wanted to stay lost, these neighbors who were warm who carried me home when I flew off my bicycle after trying to ride downhill without holding on hands in the air, and these chilly neighbors and their barbed wire border to be wary of, and this spot at the corner of Valley Road and Candlewick Lane where I caught the bus and went away to school and learned a bit about the larger world and then went fifty ways farther yet.
(with a nod to Carl Sandburg and Gimme the Ax)