Daf is dreaming

Daf had been sitting there staring into space,
could have been hours, could have been days
meditating in the wicker chair, when she turns
to look at me, and blinks; could have been an idea,
could have been wind, I’m really not sure, so I ask her
if she’s been wondering what life would be like with long eyelashes –
and she raises her eyes to the sky – like I should have known
she’s been wondering about the hypnotic beads
of a peacock, and a hen; the hen wondering
what life would be like with long eyelashes.