I am from…
I am from the place where sugar houses line clean streets, where the way to get around was a big wheel trike, but never past the mailbox. I am from the place where aspen trees and cottonwoods and poplars are the tallest things around, except for the distant mountains that seemed as unreachable as the sun. I am from the place where parents fought behind closed doors as bluejays fly into picture windows. I am from the place where boys play games with their fathers as mothers sneak cigarettes in the garage. I am from the place where kids grow up quietly, never never telling their parents until it’s too late. I am from the place where the first snow never fails to come around halloween but never fails to take us by surprise. I am from the place where all evils are hidden from the young only so the young can grow up to understand that they were never evil to begin with.
a bit of unrelated prose
