Published as a solo renga in 'Narrow Road To Renga', 1989, AHA Books, Gualala, California  

for Jane Reichhold

hanging up the phone she captures a sigh and puts it on hold
packing her suitcase what does one wear to a nightmare
in the womb of a storm a rainbow waits
through the window of the plane a vision seeks
a seeker, witch on a bicycle.
between coffee and tea there are too many
choices between life and death.
death seeks a heart and craves no witnesses.
in a rainbow exists no dividing lines in a mother and daughter
the curtains are drawn, the doors are locked,
does anybody live here.
letting no light escape the storm cackles.
one ray of sunlight stops at the window and ricochets
she listens closely to every seventh word,
decoding madness.
a hole in the rainbow begins to form.
filling out forms she reads again and again the question
to her answer, wispy edges
fluttering in the breeze but the windows are closed
in his hollow form an echo is heard
she runs for an oilcan.
in this tiny town full of her childhood aliens have landed
an old familiar face delivers the menu
she orders anonymity, in her mother's face
is someone else's mother.
leaving the hospital the heart specialist
remembers something he forgot, in the ambulance
a daughter remembers never to forget.
through the red window she sees the tornado.
she walks the halls of a neglected garden, human weeds
she stops to ask for directions. she stops.
madness seeks a mind and craves an audience.
releasing her breath underwater she sinks
to the bottom for sanctuary, how long has it been
lying in a poppy field awakened by the rain.
in the womb of the tornado light's first labor pains.
no more red sand left in the hourglass
visiting hours are over, there is no place
like home
left.

a rainbow arcs to embrace itself
pastel shadows on a dying storm
through the window of the plane she watches
a rainbow keep its distance.
unpacking her suitcase she remembers she forgot
the ruby slippers. reality is a place
you can't get to from here
with her eyes wide open
she sighs.