a web

I placed a vase with wildflowers in the corner

on the windowsill. The kitchen window stays open

most time in the summer. I need the sounds and smells of

the living world next to my skin when I sleep. Thankfully,

though stuck in the city, there are plenty of trees outside

my Muranów building, and there is a lush vine spreading

from the roof to the ground creating natural green shutters.

One morning I wanted to move the vase to make a

sitting space for my coffee ritual but when I reached for it

I saw a shining web swinging in the delicate wind connecting

the vine leaves from outside with the wildflowers like a bridge.

I scanned for its creator who could have been on either side.

That thought blessed me, somehow. It tugged on the web attached

to the edges of belonging, blending barriers, capturing life —

being at home and being a home.