Nocturne chameleonic (a poem)

As much of last night’s dreams as I can remember…

Staff were confused
this man of different face
and different name
showed up one morning
as if it were just another day

He calmly explained
that he was supposed to be there
that, despite the outward changes
he was the same person
they’d come to know

From his pocket
he produced an object
that resembled a vial of salt
This seemed to be enough
for all of their doubts were gone

When he awoke the next morning
the mirror revealed another change
in the reflection
a woman of black hair
and fine features

This time
they would be harder to convince
she might not get a chance to explain
Would these old name cards
be enough?

When she arrived
the boutique in the building lobby
was already busy
As she approached the counter
something felt…

The TV screens on the wall
showed another woman
still of fine features and fashionable
in glasses with square blue frames
but her long hair gone salt-and-pepper

Her cell phone rang
soon she was striding through the lobby
(whoever she was now)
with her colleague
to meet their contact

The two men in suits
dropped to the floor
of the studio
and crawled out, commando-style
past the cameras

She rushed to the elevator
cell phone in hand
They were already several floors up
she would meet them there
The doors closed…

She watched him struggle
with the railroad tie
They had to lift it
to move the bridge
but a train was approaching

As they walked along the tracks
and under the foliage-lined trestle
she wondered how she got here…

(24 September 2017)