Home by the Lake

Home By The Lake
by Alya Supangkat

I am from a messy bedroom, shared with my brother and sister.
Toys lay on the floor, followed by books.
I am from the quiet library, where endless books line the walls on shelves.
Astounding adventures fill every single page.
I am from satisfying holiday breaks, spent inside watching Charlie Brown on TV.

I am from James Hill, where the hill reaches the sky.
Rows and rows of sleds line up on top of the hill.
Children’s laughter rings in the air.
I am from the cozy dining room when winter comes,
I snuggle in a blanket while drinking hot chocolate.
I am from freezing winters, where frost covers the windows.

I am from high winds and thunder.
Hail showers and slush.
I am from Ridgeville Park, where flowers bloom in springtime.
I lie on the soft grass and smell the morning dew.

I am from the hot and sweaty summers of Evanston.
The beach fills up with delight every single roasting day.
The cool lake water trickles down my spine, refreshing.
I am from burning sand under tan feet.

I am from frostbites and snowmen.
Dandelions and drizzles.
Bare feet and brain freezes.
Red and brown.

I am from blizzards and rainstorms.
And traffic on I-94.
I am from puddles and showers.
And sunshine and flowers.

I am from a content town.
A town known as Evanston.
A town forever my home.






A little something from fourth/fifth grade, just to match the topic of the previous posts.