Sickle moon tan renga

red mark
on her coffee cup
deepening silence

nothing we talked about
but the sickle moon

in the round
ascending tones of
angelic voices

bamboo leaves shake
and bend the sunlight

a sudden gust of wind
brings the rain to land
a kiss of longing

in the shiver on my hand
the shake of our hands

running and laughing
kiddies play hide and seek
amber evening

I am the clouds
chasing sunset

::

Damian Alma
Wahyu W. Basjir

First published in A Hundred Gourds 2:2 March 2013
http://ahundredgourds.com/ahg22/renku03.html

Longing for rain, haibun

It's always the rain. After months of drought, it's always the rain I can't hardly wait to listen to the pitter-patter it makes on the roofing. It's always the rain to bring the stream back to the ditch under the platform where my workstation situated. It's always the rain that calls the minnows and catfish back to the pond in the backyard. It's always the rain that revives my memories of you.

swaying at window

the shadow of a leafless tree

of a long gone girl