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


            ~     ~     ~



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


            ~     ~     ~



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