I am…
a son, the first born, raised in post 9-11 America, life in a Midwestern city, and the wish to be happy.
a brother, the teacher, a good brother now, ashamed of how I used to treat my sister growing up.
a student, wishing to be done with what seems like an eternity of “learning”, working for what I hope will be a good life.
a boyfriend to Ravyn, the most amazing girl that I’ve ever met, the greatest planetary mapper I know, and the best-looking geologist I’ve ever laid eyes on.
a server, with almost 2 years under my belt, at the Waterford where anything can and will happen, most of the elder folk there love me, some find it hard to escape 80 year old rutts.
a president to the Gardening Club, where I have no idea what I’m doing, but it seems to be working okay.
I am…
unsweet tea and sunchips, milk and chocolate chip cookies.
the uniqueness of a Winter snowflake, the roar of thunder in the skies during the Spring rains, the smell of fresh-cut grass on a Summer day, the crunch of leaves under feet in Autumn.
a netflix account with way too many things in the “recently watched” section.
a large collection of glass art pieces, the plant that is almost ready to harvest, and the feeling of a job well-done.
I am…
dirty blond hair and hazelish-brown eyes, with the extremely white skin and bright red lips that my mother oh-so-nicely gave to me.
Average hieght, skinny and rather boney.
tattered jeans, a pair of Toms, a generic T-shirt, and a jacket.
a legal adult now, whether I feel like it or not. (I don’t even know the paperwork I need to fill out!)
yearning to be older, wiser, and more experienced…
Sean, I enjoyed the way you ended your poem after defining who you are throughout the poem, you left an open ending leading to who you will become. I enjoyed the depth of it.
ReplyDeleteMs. Ferkel
I have to say i love sweet tea and sunchips. Gotta love em'.
ReplyDeleteI, too, like your hopeful ending. From what I know of you, though, I would say you are already wise beyond your years. Your line about not knowing what paperwork you need to fill out to be a real adult made me laugh--kind of spot on. It seems like half of being a grown up is being able to jump through all the bureaucratic hoops and red tape. You want to rage against the machine but you also want to have good TV and a car. So you get in the line and turn in the form. But I digress. There's so much to like about you, and much of it is captured in this poem. Thanks, Sean.
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