Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!
Our text for this session wasย โWhere I’m Fromโ by George Ella Lyon, posted below.
Our prompt was: โWrite about where you’re from.โ
More details on this session will be posted, so check back!
Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (โLeave a Replyโ), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.
Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if youโre able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!
Please join us for our next sessionย Wednesday March 10th at 12pm EST, with more times listed on ourย Live Virtual Group Sessionsย page.
Where Iโm From By George Ella Lyon I am from clothespins, from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride. I am from the dirt under the back porch. (Black, glistening it tasted like beets.) I am from the forsythia bush, the Dutch elm whose long gone limbs I remember as if they were my own. I am from fudge and eyeglasses, from Imogene and Alafair. I'm from the know-it-alls and the pass-it-ons, from perk up and pipe down. I'm from He restoreth my soul with cottonball lamb and ten verses I can say myself. I'm from Artemus and Billie's Branch, fried corn and strong coffee. From the finger my grandfather lost to the auger the eye my father shut to keep his sight. Under my bed was a dress box spilling old pictures. a sift of lost faces to drift beneath my dreams. I am from those moments -- snapped before I budded -- leaf-fall from the family tree.
