101/365

what does it mean
to be from a place?

to be born there?
go to school there?
to learn english there?
have your first kiss there?
fall in love there?
make friends there?
learn your place there?
do everything to escape there?
never want to go back there?
miss it more than anywhere there?
want to rest there?
hope to die there?

the 101
is the aorta of the state,
hell maybe the whole country,
of the world for me.
especially
the twenty eight
point three miles
from novato to the city.

i know every exit:
south novato boulevard
mission avenue to central san rafael
lucas valley road and smith valley road
sir francis drake boulevard.

every little town:
fairfax, corte madera, larkspur, mill valley, tiburón.
the artery to the mountain, the bay, the ocean, the redwood forest.

lived in san rafael, fairfax, novato
worked at the ice cream shop, the jc penny’s,
the movie theatres and the banks.

the world felt so small
growing up there.
home is never
a big enough place to
tether a wandering heart.

but the 101
proves to be a rugged
lodestone.

northbound over the horse hill preserve
southbound out of the robin william’s tunnel
onto the bridge
into the city
always feels like home.

where are you from?
born in iran but grew up
in the states,
california,
san francisco bay area

i am from marin county
i am from the 101.