You ask where I am from,
Wanting a country as an answer.
But that I cannot tell you
Instead here’s this.
I am from a dispersed people
United by a common goal
The search for glistening golden streets
A honeyed place to call home
I am from a jigsaw community
Pieces from one country, pieces from the next,
Put together here in Canada
Where I am also from, I guess.
I am from a lost language,
Brought back with a textbook,
And the taste of bubbe’s cooking,
That reflects blog recipes rather than our ancestry.
If the words and the recipes didn’t make it—
I am from the people who did.
I am from
Hiding and fighting,
Protecting and reviving,
I am from everywhere and nowhere,
Holding on to the cracked window sills and rusted door knobs,
Of our broken down house that wasn’t home to so many
In just one country anyway.
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