As promised, here is my version of the poem.
I am from peppermint fields,
Proud, little red house and chocolate chip cookies
still warm from the oven.
Deep Lake where tadpoles and turtles hatch.
I am from tamarack and pine,
Grandma's apple trees and Poppy's plum
Ancient and broken and sweet every fall
folded into pies and served with
hand-cranked homemade ice cream.
from red geraniums and Yukon gold potatoes,
I am from Joe-Magee-It
and you have the same shoes to be glad in.
I'm from the know-it-alls, the type A, the OCD,
the pass-it-on, the say your prayers,
the never miss a sunset - pink mountain time.
I'm from Victory in Jesus, the Old Rugged Cross
the fish biting, Christy Minstrels singing, and John Deere green.
From icy waterfalls, Glacier Country.
Eagles flying. Pheasants hiding.
Brother. sister. Home.
I am as handy as a pocket on a shirt.
A dollar waiting on a dime.
From grandpa's heart attack. Broken back. Migraines. Crops lost.
Daddy's go-fer, farmer's daughter. Strong.
4-H lambs and 4-wheelers.
I am mother's records. Sad songs. basement piano concerts. Vintage
treasure, delicate lace. Sweet perfume, perfect. Fragile.
I am from the smell of dirt thawing,
spring breakup, the plant pushing through.
I am black and white photos carefully framed, hanging on a wall.