He Was From

He was from overalls, from Plug tobacca and ploughshares.
He was from the hand-sawn, sixteen-penny house,
Small and warm, and with unlocked doors.
He was from the willow tree, honey-suckle and sandstone,
The goose-berry, apple-blossom and honey bee.
He was from Sunday Packer games and a straight back
From Samuel T. and Margaret Love, and Paul F.
He was from the sweat-earned day and a fist of beer
From don't sass your mother and mind your manners.
He was from help your neighbor and give thanks
From folded hands and praise be.
He was from a whistle-stop, a long-hauler, baked beans
And scalloped potatoes, from the great, great, Smoky
Grandfather hunting mountain bear, from the seven
Directions of the Cherokee, the green fields of horse
Hooves, and the red Jacket of England.
He was from the proud wall of graduation pictures, and the 
Worn arm of a davenport, from the image of a wedding
Cake, shadow boxes, baby boots, quartz crystals and 
Seashells, from a '64 Mustang, letter-sweater
And a promise ring.
He was from a draft notice and mortar fire.
He'd be sixty-three.