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where I'm from

not its not a poem about the suburbs

By EvePublished 3 years ago 1 min read
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I am from the depths of the rolling waves,

and the grains of the salty sand,

I am from the smell of cinnamon buns, smoky campfires and coffee.

I am from the local grocery store,

always stocked with whatever you desire,

From the dark emerald trees, and the petit precious ferns,

I am from the tidepools, overflowing with life.

From the “Don’t wander too far,” and the “take your sister with you,”

I am from the coffee house filled freshly baked doughnuts,

And warm coffee in mismatched mugs.

I am from my footprints, that are made only to be washed away,

I am from the dark skies and the thundering rain,

and the peace that follows,

Lastly I am from the laughter that echoes through the camp site as we sit around the fire,

With rosy cheeks, sandy feet, full hearts and warm souls.

nature poetry
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About the Creator

Eve

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