Zaylee G...
Yokota High School
From sweet, fresh picked cherries, hunting frogs with cousins, smells of juicy fruit gum, and views of red, sandy hills. I must be from Utah!
Till I’m plucked and replanted, in new desert sand.
From hot, blistering summers, family dinners at Rudy’s, playdates at Katy’s, and large fields of bluebells. I must be from Texas!
Till I board a plane forced to adapt.
From piping hot pizza, riding bikes on cobbled streets, constant trips to new cities, and the towering Dolomites. I must be from Italy!
Till my roots are removed required to regrow.
From cool, creamy ice cream, melting, sticky weather, neighborhood pool parties, And cool nights at the fields. I must be from Florida!
Till I’m packaged and shipped told to adjust.
From savory yakisoba, nights out at Chili’s, money spent at arcades, and cherry blossom groves. I must be from Japan!
Till graduation calls and moving trucks pull in.
Familiarity is fleeting. Friends are leaving. Homes never mine. Told everything’s fine.
But one constant remains, my family stays.
“Home is where the heart is”. This I know is true. Their support is essential to grow anywhere.