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