A cool June morning
Even though it is summer
It still feels like spring
A crisp, clear, empty blue sky
Not even a bird flies by
It's a weekday, but
There's hardly any traffic;
Silence as absence
A Sagittarius wind
Briefly shakes the wooden gate
A cascade of leaves
Tumbles past the closed window
And the vase of roses
She pulls her knitted cap down
Over her ears and forehead
An indifferent dog
Sniffs its way through spilled garbage;
But it's just old clothes
He hopes his shoes will last through
The whole of a harsh winter
The rising full moon
Somehow seems malevolent
When one wants shadows
The last to leave the office
Locking the door behind them
A workplace romance
Since they are both unmarried
There is much laughter
They still like to tell stories
Of those days when they first met
2 comments:
Jim,
You do solo renga well. The links here are exceptionally apt.
Thanks Brian. Renga is my favorite form; it's what drew me to poetry in the first place.
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