I am from a rock in the sea
From barnacle encrusted coast and Sitka Spruce.
I am from the rain puddles that pool in the roads.
(Grimy and brown
make sure you wear your boots!)
I am from the lupine.
The fireweed
That grow tall in the summer
Reminding me it's time to return North
For one more season.

I am from skipping rocks and digging clams
From Amy and Mary
I'm from the wanna-get-outs
And the never-got-outs,
From follow your heart and be true to yourself.
I'm from the town with the bookstore
Named after Starigavan
With the paper bag sign that says,
"Don't drip on the books."

I'm from the shadow of Edgecumbe, Gavan, Verstovia,
Halibut and King Salmon.
From the loss of the pulp mill my father revered,
To the cancer my mother battled.
In the little cul-de-sac
Within ear of the sea
Patiently sits my "one of these days."
Artwork adorns the walls
Books fill the shelves
I am from this place
That seldom changes.