everything I am, in a single window

If I were to name the single window in my living room, I would name it "self portrait."

"self portrait," lowercase, because we can't take ourselves that seriously, but still, here, is the microcosm of me. A lamp my mother gave me. A skull I bought for my husband. Growing things, courtesy of my father. A polymer bowl, bought from the shop that now features the clay of this skull-loving ceramics genius. Up above, a ring box from when I was a kid, a glass hummingbird, a glass sea horse, a pair of ornamental ice skates because I could once land a double lutz. A car carved by a friend of my son. Art from Krakow. A small bit of porcelain that I'd given my mother and then gave back to myself, in the long year of cleaning her house. A fan from Spain.

The world beyond. The neighbors with whom I've become friends again.

Sometimes the living takes long.