I’m from roller hockey in the basement.
From tunnels in the snow banks at recess,
And six kids in a minivan, headed for Hartland South.

I’m from the octagonal pool.
From a city skyline instead of straight teeth,
And Opa’s frosty white hair falling like feathers to the floor.

I’m from snowmen, igloos, and skis
From ice skates,
And the frozen ponds in the neighborhood.

I’m from Okauchee and Nagawicka.
From just outside the white circle on the green field,
And free Mad Rock climbing shoes.

I’m from a German woman with a Spanish name.
From Pops, whom kids mistake for a pirate,
And a nappy-headed brother.