I sit on a sofa looking over to the photos on the wall

 
discolored images of Broadway gatherings
fleeting moments of smiling faces
memories of times when dreams were forming

 
they seem to be staring at me
wondering who I am

who is that stranger in our space
daring to peer into our forgotten panorama?

 
I wait for her return like an inpatient child

while nuzzled by five cats

a stuffed grizzly looms over the marble fireplace
its arms extended and its teeth gnarling
almost feels as if it wants to jump down
for being kept it in such awkward state

playbills are scattered about like dry leaves
from times when she ventured
the Great White Way
celebrating the jazz of theater

 
she reappeared with the verve of a woman  
invigorated with the art of life

 
she sat down and poured me lemonade

and began to reminisce about a Shakespearean Theater
she founded in California, circa 1920’s

 
her eyes sparkling
her voice strong and playful
fulfillment etched into her expression

 
we spoke for quite some time

as I finished my lemonade
I excused myself for it was getting late

so I said goodnight

 
and as I ventured outside her mansion

I then could hear her speaking
to her daughter who died years ago

still conversing in the hallways of her mansion

roaming through memories of  her crafty heart