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A Hundred Gourds 2:2 March 2013
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page 3  

Sickle Moon

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 skin
the shake of our hands


running and laughing
kiddies play hide and seek
amber evening

I am the clouds
chasing sunset



Damian Alma, Ngaglik, Indonesia Wahyu W. Basjir, Ngemplak, Indonesia


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