I AM FROM

By Nujhat Purnata

I am from the orange mountains

From the land of political correctness

I am by the smelly farms

In the midst of the college bars

The liberal arts,

Where the whiteness arrives after the foliage

And pretends to stay forever

Only for the emergence of greenery

To melt every snowflake

And make way for Spring

I am from the Summer months,

An isolated town and its grassy terrain

I am from the trails,

The wet woods and the squirrels,

The occasional deer

And the surrounding villages

Where the strangers smile

And people hike

     (and bike)

And watch their dogs run

Across the Seven Sisters

And into the sunset

I am from 7000 miles
Away from home

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