A poet friend asks me to take a photo of her
with a younger woman I don’t know.
They hide their faces with Japanese fans
while I fumble with a disintegrating camera.
Stacked cubes appear in the middle of the image.
My beloved partner in the puzzlers’ league appears,
even though she died last month.
She introduces me to a tall, gray-haired woman…
Oh, how eerie. Strange and beautiful.
Thanks for your comment and the “dream” prompt!
Perhaps my favorite part:
“They hide their faces with Japanese fans
while I fumble with a disintegrating camera.”
I love how this poem unexpectedly unfolds.