The house made of brambles
I live in a house made of brambles. somewhat like a bird's nest.
pieces of fabric & gold thread create a roof. within the house exists
a stream with seven goldfish. the goldfish are healthy and will live
forever. sometimes I attempt to understand my life & often
confuse or maybe it is infuse or defuse the past with the present
with the future.
I love my small room of silent clocks, where the walls are covered
in postage stamps. there by a window sits my writing table; its surface
scattered with a handful of stardust. a bristle pine grows from its middle.
through the years the tree has forged a hole through the roof & often times
a variety of birds gather on its branches, some made of paper, some real.
my house sits in sand, surrounded by gardens, with a view to the sea.
occasionally I speak in sunflowers; other times I am silent.
one day I realize I must venture out, no matter how frightening,
into the world—and so I begin by untaping the blue masking tape
around my door.
words: Marcia Arrieta, California (indefinite space)
'lake triptych' - Ron Kostar, NJ (more)
2 other houses: the house + How to Describe Eternity