I am from worn step treads, from second hand sales and firewood.
I am from the modernized farmstead.
I am from the timothy, the clover.
I am from arts & crafts and Canadiana, from Frank and David and Bacon.
I am from the dramatic and vocal.
From I said and I think.
I am from beginning to end. From do the work that is there to do.
I’m from farmland in Upper Canada, from potatoes and corn.
From the Joe was stepping on the chickens and Joe wasn’t Joe anymore, the tunnels and hidden forts in the hay, and the Great Grandfather who looked just like me.
I am from cobwebs and memories, from photo albums and carefully organized cases in the attic.