‘I am from’ poem

My students are writing these nice ‘I am from…’ poems right now. They are so delightful that I thought I’d post one myself.
I am from white chalk on sun-bleached boulders,
from jackaloupes and marmots,
billy goats,
and the deepest of valleys.
I am from the Silver Rush.
I am from my mom’s cool hands,
from whistling down the hallway,
from polio,
canasta,
pigeons,
and shrink-wrapped furniture.
I am from estrangement.
I am from casting a wide net,
the Burren,
The Cliffs of Moher,
the East River,
and all the houses on Elizabeth Street.
I am from dorm rooms,
dirt roads,
and the Heidi Cabin.
I am from saying goodbye.
I am from the Lewis and Clark Roller Skating Club,
from making out in stairwells,
from truth or dare,
rock shows,
pranks,
and the Suppressed Desire party.
I am from night swimming.
I am from boyfriends,
and first kisses,
from driving up I-5 for secrets,
from dying of a broken heart.
I am from carelessness,
and worry.
I am from “I need you badly, my very best friends,”
from traveling by train,
Boston Marriages,
Dodge Colt, Toyota, and Subaru,
from swing dancing and ska.
I am from the rodeo,
from zines and the Internet,
I am from wishing for telekinesis.
I am from classrooms,
from scissors and shushing,
bright eyes and eyes that are glassy,
strep throat and sticky hugs,
I am from protecting.
I am from lover and beloved,
I am from nests.
I am from light and weight,
I am from the horizon.