Where I'm From

I am from a sled, sliding down my backyard hill of frosted white.
I am from the same hill, with a tennis court fence I had to climb.
I am from the land of Strawberry,
And yet, the same land is the land of knights.

 I am from the days of laying on my parent's bed,
Trying to watch whatever was on,
Always trying to stay awake,
Always failing.

I am from the swirling of leaves,
Lost in the flurry of red, brown, and yellow.
I am from the warmth,
The comfort of the household flame.

I am from a land not my own,
And not my forefathers either,
A land I can still call home,
A land that makes me stranger and better.

I am from the sculpture near the front door,
A testament to my mother's skill.
I am from the basement,
The room where hair was lost to a different skill of my mother.

I am from the top bunk,
From the room shared with another person with the same blood.
I am from the olden days of gaming,
Where the eldest systems took root in my home.

I am from the flowers at our front yard,
The mailbox which I loved to open and look inside.
I am from the circular road,
Shared with neighbors of all sorts,
But each one kind and caring.