Where I’m From

I am from

the father who didn’t want me

long before I was a seed germinating in my mother’s womb

I am from

the mountains

my visions, my memories

etched in stone the color of autumn leaves

red, pink-hued, sandstone

I am from

the stories untold

the ache of not belonging

of being alone

of being unwanted

I am from

the stars that glisten

hope

redemption

possibility

I am from

the heart of a woman

strong

proud

ferocious

uncertain

who knows without question

what it means to love

my children

my grandchildren

and slowly, myself

I am from

old stories

that stick to me like surgeon’s glue

that hold me fast

to places, people, things

that are no longer mine

I am from

the stories yet written

of pen and paper

of belonging and longing

of place and time

of being me

injured

resilient

flawed

perfect

— By Evelyn Donato (2022)