I wrote this poem several years ago for a Womens' Studies class. A stupid assignment for an accounting major. Nonetheless, I consider it one of my best works. I was recently telling a friend about this poem so I thought I would post it in his honor. Of all the people I have met, he is one with the gentlest of souls.
I am
I am Rachael Chitty
A name that challenges me
To hold my head high
To correct mispronunciations
and misspellings
A name that calls me to courage
To be proud of my history
To acknowledge my heritage
I am a girl who roamed the woods
Conquering the land
and battling intruders
I am the girl who brought home
every kind of flower in bloom
During spring, sneaking into
neighbor's yards and plundering
their natural treasures
I am a girl who took the abuse
But called it what it was
I am a wild horse
Roaming the land
Looking for fun and freedom
Running from capture mostly
I am a girl who picks at her nails
Who picks at her skin
Who picks at her toes
Who secretly picks at her nose
A trait I learned in Burma
They pick at their noses
And they love me
And I pick at my nose
Because I love them too
I am a girl who loves the sound
of her dog breathing
It brings a peace I can't explain
I am a girl who loves the smell
of her dog's paws
It leads me to remember
all of the Boston Terriers
I have loved before him
I am a girl who still
Hears the sound of her grandpa
Calling, “Bless your bones”
Though it seems strange
Now that he is gone
I am a girl who is a wildflower
Waiting to be found
And picked and pressed
Into a good book, possibly a classic
I am Rachael Chitty
