March 2018 – Iron Haiku

angry bitter tears
burn as they roll down her face
and fall to the dirt
–
arid fields-
dust gathers
around his feet

downtown abandoned-
sickly yellow light leaks from
a single street lamp
–
moths-
the guttering
porch light

a cold waiting room-
absolutely terrified
of what will come next
–
eyes closed-
the taste of salt
in my veins

a cobblestone path-
the back garden gate flanked by
rose bushes in bloom
–
spring breeze-
the cloying scent
of honeysuckle

charcoal black velvet-
an upholstered sky pierced by
pinholes of starlight
–
desert mesa-
the broad expanse
of the midnight sky

nestled in the snow
a single long stemmed red rose
rests on your headstone
–
cold rain-
in the gutter
a bouquet of roses

barnacles gather
just below the waterline
where the piers once stood
–
rotting pilings-
waves, the echoes
of children’s laughter

this taste of sunshine
after the dark dry winter
barely slakes my thirst
–
crokus blossoms-
eagerly defy the
lingering winter

watching from afar-
a tree falls in the forest
the silence unheard
–
old oak tree-
climbing vines
reach for the su

under crushing debt
the future turns to ashes
swept by our children
–
wild fire-
fed by embers
on the wind