Where I'm From

I am from meatballs
from noodles and sauce
I am from food cooking in the kitchen
(warm, fresh, tastes like grandmas')
I am from the fall leaves
the oak trees whose thick branches
I would climb
I am from cookies and brown hair
from Jim and Phyliss
I'm from the loud mouths
and people who talk with thier hands
From say please and thank you
I'm from going to church on Sundays
and falling alseep in the pews
I'm from Parma and Italy's finest
Speghetti and meatballs
From the Christmas Papa dressed as Santa
and his beard was pulled off
The snoring sounds of Grandpa Bob
In the albums and boxes,
filled of pictures and memories
that will last forever