Eleven Tan-renga with Garry Gay

Individual tan-renga previously published in various journals. Garry wrote all the starting verses, and I wrote the capping verses on 5 November 1998 in Windsor, California, and on 6 November 1998 on the I-5 freeway between Gorman and Sunland, California.

 

 

Lost beach ball

the waves keep tossing it

back and forth

 

            an hour to sunset

            the sun faintly orange

 

            ~     ~     ~

 

Morning fog . . .

still here

this evening

 

            and still the sheets

            hung on the line

 

            ~     ~     ~

 

Algae-covered

lily pond

one last goldfish

 

            circling, circling

            near the toddler’s fingers

 

            ~     ~     ~

 

Fog clearing

finding myself

at the cliff’s edge

 

            a wild strawberry

            lures me closer

 

            ~     ~     ~

 

Beached jellyfish

the flies and children

examining it

 

            skimming pelicans

            rise over the pier

 

            ~     ~     ~

 

Dry cracked lake bottom

a blue rubber swim fin

lost last summer

 

            a button pops

            from my red plaid shirt

 

            ~     ~     ~

 

Cloudy sky

the hawk hovers

without a shadow

 

            my breath held—click

            of the shutter

 

            ~     ~     ~

 

Late autumn

only the kite skeleton

left in the tree

 

            skid marks

            across the parking lot

 

            ~     ~     ~

 

Singing

to himself

the lone hiker

 

            for six breaths

            we stop lovemaking

 

            ~     ~     ~

 

Very late autumn;

the pumpkin that never got

a face

 

            one card taken

            from the recipe box

 

            ~     ~     ~

 

Weeping willow

someone crying

under it

 

            sheaves of a letter

            afloat on the pond