Daydream

I am on a mountain, Gary Snyder is reading poetry by the fire. We overlook - three of us, Alice is here, too - Southern California, with all its sun and sky that I have never seen, only in my head. Alice and I are here because Gary invited us. He's been dead almost thirty years or so.

Gary wrote poetry about a girl called Robin, he never told us about her, only through his poetry. I can tell there's something about him that Alice likes, but I'm not jealous, he's engaging. Gary has his beard that he wore in his later years, because that's how I see him, and Alice is wearing the turquoise jumper I bought her all those years ago. The colour turquoise always reminds me of Taid, because he taught me that word, and aquamarine as well.

Grey Gary gets up, and Alice sweeps her hair across her forehead. Her nose is as small as it's always been, tucked between her brown eyes that watch the old man as he makes his way to me and says, "Wait til the sun goes down, it's magical here."

I turn to Alice and smile.