“You still sound like Oklahoma.”
Words I never expected to hear from my grandmother.
“Well, it’s where I’m from,” I say.
“Yes, but sometimes when you leave a place
for a new one,
you take on the characteristics of that place.”
I knew then,
after fifteen years away, no matter
how many years I distanced myself
from those plains,
I could never truly leave.
“I still sound like Oklahoma?” I ask.
“You still sound like Oklahoma.”
Who am I to argue with my grandma?