A poem reposted from 2013
“Where do you come from?”
That’s the first thing strangers ask me,
I am never quite sure exactly what they mean,
Are they interested in where I was born?
Do they want to know where my parents were born?
Maybe it’s a question of where I have just been,
Or possibly they want to know what I’m thinking,
Perhaps I seem a little bit left field for them,
A bit too way out for their sensibilities.
Why do people always ask me
“Where do you come from?”
Why don’t they ever ask me
“Where are you going to?”
Where do I come from?
I’m a Welsh, German, Cornish, Jew.
I don’t have a clue,
Do You?
Harry Rogers, Pencnwcau, Aberbanc, April 2013.
harri seeing red 