March 2019 – Iron Haiku

wind at the windows-
as I move to tend the fire
the cat takes my seat
–
late winter morn-
my calico sleeps
in a patch of sun

the slow push of surf-
a lighthouse in the distance
obscured by the fog
–
distant foghorns
cairns lost
to the tide

great sheets of lake ice
cracked and heaving in the sun
as they come onshore
–
a cold night-
the ice in your drink
begins to melt

ripples on ripples-
the pond’s once glassy surface
welcomes back the rain
–
a forest lea-
the doe and her fawn
return to the wood

tiger lilies bloom-
last year’s fallen leaves begin
dancing with the wind
–
crocus blooms –
a young robin
in my birdbath

rhapsody in blue-
the crush of humanity
just outside my ears
–
the subway shuttle-
a ragged busker
bows his violin

clutching thoughts and prayers
while we let those who suffer
slip through our fingers
–
predawn chill-
sleeping children
suddenly fatherless

a time worn foot path
generations of sandals
eroding the stones
–
along the path-
moss grows over
the garden stones

the smell of sawdust-
practiced hands work the gouges

turning wood to art

–

ocean waves-
driftwood rests
among the shells

a long meander-
river banks bent by the slow
persistence of time
–
weeping willows-
cattails and rushes
bend in the wind