Conundrums come in threes.

I see it now:
exotic jellyfish,
it rode the waves
and rode them with aplomb;
re-shaped itself
for trough and crest, its broad
black brim spread wide
to stabilize it, take
it drifting weight
through every change of shape.
Its lemon crown
collected-in the stares
of sunbathers
and promenaders, both;
its double prow
of sculpted net and lace
had two blue eyes
which as it twirled in wind
and tide were set
to scan the whole wide world.
Below it hung
the lower net of lace
and bits and bobs
where feelers should have been.

Frinton sea front.
My aunt has taken me
to convalesce.

Another image comes
and lays itself
above Aunt Julie's hat.
Best hat. Reserved
for most auspicious times,
not everyday!

Now on the promenade
in contact with
my chunky wooden train.
Red engine -- lodged
against the hat -- green truck,
grey carriages
and guards van midnight blue.

Final image.
Composite. The same two.
Black-and-white. Cut
from a local paper,
but now torn and
incomplete. No wording --
and no me! No
clues to the mysteries.
.............................

Victoria C. Slotto for dVerse Poets, Meeting the Bar has been giving us a master class on the Imagists and communication under the title of The Medium is the Message. Please do go and have a read of it.