Ryan Frechette

Papa

CW1

17 September 2010 Where I’m From…

What My Reflection Sees

I am from the treasures in couch cushions, from Windex and Dell Computers.

I am from the confines of love and war. Comforting and permanent, the echoes of resistance.

I am from the everlasting Christmas Cactus and overflowing Hydrangea invading the

cobblestone path.

I am from the squabble and the forgiveness, from Frechette and Merrit and Weir.

I am from the many a hazardous winter holiday and dueling MP3 players.

I am from the praising “Hey Bubba-Louie!” and the twisted “Peter Piper picked a peck of puh-

peh-pbbbt.”

I am from a superfluous amount of questions, from Nabisco wafers and grape juice.

I am from the lush evergreen forests, and the lovely “Bella Notte’s,” from 7-Ingredient Meatballs

and Strawberry Casserole.

From the gardens of blue spruce, designed for December, the day started with hot coffee, ended

with a closer family, accompanied by a breakfast for kings.

I am from the piles of scrapbooks past, and the files of a .JPEG future.

I am from the right side of a mirror, wondering just how my reflection takes in all this. Or maybe

I am the reflection.