I think I may have dreamed of her the night before last
I forgot to write it down, all I remember is that we might
have been in the house that belonged to her, it was wooden
and orange in the interior, great Japanese beams of ancient
blessed wood, and was on a hill above a lake, maybe, and al-
though I was not consciously thinking about it, but noticing
the details as if it were a friend's house, near my home, and
I was there for tea in the afternoon, when the shadows begin
to stretch before bed, and her face in the orange glow of the
setting summer sun, just as sweet as the coffee that I could
have had, when at work she asked me to join her a few months
back.