BALLAD Poem: WHERE I’M FROM, by Sheila Evans

I’m from a Southern backyard —
Magnolia grandiflora sporting huge white blooms
Honeysuckles spilling over the fence
Red roses soaked with the aroma of tea
Hollyhocks springing up yearly into flowering towers.

I’m from a Southern backyard —
Mud pies being made beneath a magnificent pin oak tree
Mint leaves mysteriously exploding with flavor
Milk pods’ white fluid being tasted not knowing it was poisonous.

I’m from a Southern backyard —
Bedroom window we escaped to crawl space door
To meet our coonhound Jethro and to play in the moonlight.
Bedroom window we each escaped on separate occasions
Out into moonlit streets until returned by kind policemen.

I’m from a Southern backyard —
Concrete foundation swirls scarily like a gorilla’s face
Wooden swing where we watched mad Mommy fleeing
Crawl space source of hound’s howls after Daddy’s death.

I’m from a Southern backyard —
From which Mommy returned to hospital after the funeral
From which we left with barely known Northern kinfolk
Into which other families came to live in the bosom of its beauty.