Where I’m From by Christopher Gaumond

I am from glistening water
falling though the sieve.
tall snowmen
from shining green hostas
crab apple trees, birches, oaks,
elms, and occasional ashes and pines
I am from Buffalo wings
potato soup with bacon, cheese and onions,
ham and Swiss Panini
hot dogs and pepperoni pizza
I am from little trains,
melancholy books,
chewed up plush toys
watercolor paints,
crayons and pencils
soft strands of cotton, thin and
carefully curved onto the deep blue felt
forced, and hated, knitting, sewing, and crocheting
and soft forts made of pillows and sheets.
I am from the house on corner,
With softly carpeted basement,
rough wooden floors
and crinkling sun drop dandelion siding
Halloween decorations littering the yard
best on the street
without golden bricks or blazing red iron and steel
without crimson and sienna logs
without gray and yellowed stone.
The house of which I speak sat quietly and meek,
but it was home.
I am from Mom and Dad,
Carson and Sebastian,
Lucas, Danny, Nolan, and Caleb
and Horace Mann.


About Sarah Cosgrove

This entry was posted in love, mother, poem, poems, poetry, truth, word, words, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Where I’m From by Christopher Gaumond

  1. Wow again. I read this in my email and thought it was yours Sarah. my reply was going to be: “This so good Sarah. Some of your beat work.” And then I see Christopher wrote it. Bravo Christopher! Very nice! Keep writing!

    • He is a better writer than me. And I am totally ok with that. In fact, I am more than ok, I am ecstatic that I have the opportunity to be part of his journey and he is certainly a big part of mine. We make each other better people. And that, my Dear, is family. xoxo

  2. Patrice Grullion (your mom's friend) says:

    Beautiful Christopher, so heartfelt, open and inspired!

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