Ekphrastic Series

Week Six

From Umbra: Home

by Laura Berman

it was afternoon anyway / some of the things surrounding me were on fire

I wanted a new home for my home

I rearranged my objects by color / to see what held up

there were boots and masses of wire and lampshades and, yes, a little philodendron

I removed the orange fruits from the yellow fruit bowl / I nestled the yellow washcloth in

I shredded a striped shirt into ribbons / I righted a sheet into crevice of mattress

I pulled the brown leaves off the philodendron / apologizing

I laid the small white cat into the white sheet / and asked her to stay

I was not burrowing in my nest for days

like when someone accused me of being at home / living in a house like it was a home

there was no more nest / only layers

and then the layer of my body / peeled itself away

I jumped into the pool / and I stayed there

ears trembling under a lens of cleanliness / limbs kicking unaware to keep my body bobbing

I did not stay because I liked the water / or the hot heap of sun

but because everything turned cerulean

and I didn’t mind it that way