I am from a towering grassy knoll

I am from a burbling creek

I am from mulberries and blackberries
staining hands in purple juice
a tangy blade of grass sweetened with morning dew
I am from thick tree branches
rungs on natures ladders
abandoning their guests at a moments leisure
I am from a small red ball
kicked by callused feet
from second base
a lonely tree between two apartments
I am from a tangled mess of curly black hair
the constellations in the sky
forming perfect pictures to aid in the telling of bedtime stories
I am from The Search for Delicious and The Hobbit
I am from a small brick apartment
a tiny circuit for even smaller legs
home to the depths of all knowledge
and the assured dreams of a child
ushered back from the forest
by the tantalizing tales held in a library of books