I have a collection
of ornamental fans
they sit across the top
of my bedroom window
beautiful colours and patterns
rigid structure unfurling
majestic canvases of moments
that stretch into scenes
some were cheap,
inexpensive knock-offs
from street vendors in
Japan and Italy
despite their plastic frames
their reproduced landscapes
they are evocative reminders
of exotic experiences
others came from my grandmother's house
packed away for years
finally produced with glee
- look, Mum. Vintage.
I close my eyes and try to picture it
elegant dresses and long cigarettes
opera capes and glamorous parties
meeting eyes across the top of a coquettish fan
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