We come from salty waters and the buzzing of bees
We come from sandy hands and scraped knees
Fresh fruit that melts on your tongue
Climbing the trees where it once had hung
Earth underneath our fingernails
Hair blowing beneath mighty sails
I was blossomed from the beauty of the tides
I can see it in the reflection of my father’s eyes
Warm as the sun and blue as the sea
I can see the home where my ancestors used to be
And when he speaks of the ocean I find myself falling in love
Warm waves, thick air, sun shining from above
Palermo gently calls my name
I know my father feels the same
Yet when I ask why my family left, I watch his eyes go dim
I suppose the American Dream has died along with a little part of him
L.C Anderson High School
11th