February 2017 – Iron Haiku

so much left unsaid
I’m not sure that I can take
your icy silence
–
pools of sunshine-
the soft dripping
of melting ice

deafening silence
our civil ramparts falling
amidst the chaos
–
spring rain-
roaring floods muted
underwater

the chill of the moon-
the sun wraps herself tightly
in the cloak of night
–
the winter sky-
delicate pearls grace
the neck of the night

alabaster hills
cherry blossoms harken to
the first blush of spring
–
snowdrops-
a hint of cherry
on your lips

tendrils of ground fog
seep down into the lowlands
just before the dawn
–
melting snow-
a silver crescent
in the mist

washing and scrubbing
under this scalding water
still I can’t come clean
–
coal smoke-
a cardinal
on the snow

a pair of otters
dozing in the sun floating
far out in the bay
–
bleached driftwood-
iridescent sand
on the ebb tide

machine oiled blued steel
the weight of it heavier
than I expected
–
ice on the rocks-
another shot
added to my burden

living night to night
afraid of my own shadow
lest I feel the sun
–
crying gulls-
a distant sandbar
bakes in the sun

I still feel you here
disturbing the emptiness
well after you’re gone
–
thunderclouds-
hard rain off
the tin roof