Where I’m From

Where I’m From

BY TYLER J. MEIER

I am from the splendor of cut timothy
The place where we stack the summer 
And squares
On our wobbly wagons
And wheel them into the cave mouths
Of our barns.
I am from the swallows 
Circling as if the afternoon were somehow worthy of a halo
I am from silos and slow moving vehicles and one day sliding 
Into another
I am from the man who feels he has a shimmering maple
Inside him
I am from the space between things
The four seasons and all their splendor
The bottom 
Of the casserole 
I am from the mud 
And the abundance 
Of tomatoes
The dance of tassels on row after row after row
From the Scioto which breeches once a season 
Painting what it can with itself 
From the last leg
And the long cut 
And the lowdown
From a soybean like a prayer
I’m from everywhere I’ve been 
But especially from there