June 2019 – Iron Haiku

shavings of maple
remnants of a craftsman’s work
spread across the floor
–
a willow tree
the old man carves
in the shade

ephemeral rain-
bird songs echo from the trees
in the fading light
–
twilight-
a grove
of amber

my open window-
from the red barn a white owl
asks me one question
–
transfixed-
the field mouse stares
at his death

dark murky waters
dirt and debris stirred up from
raking the bottom
–
cold rain-
a dark past
muddied by truth

a time of rebirth-
years spent living in the dark
rescued by your light
–
through the water
dancing reflections
from the surface

second grade romance-
a slip of paper folded
and passed hand to hand
–
mardi gras-
her number on
a bar napkinL

waiting for the sea-
an ancient mariner mourns
the arriving tide
–
bedraggled skies-
limp with rain over
an unkempt sea

a sidewalk cafe-
lunch forgotten as a crow
lands on my table
–
al fresco-
a rain drop
in my coffee

born of the mountains
falling over age worn stone
scattering the sun
–
summer solstice-
roaring water
fills my ears

in a shadow box
fragments of my broken heart
preserved and on display
–
shimmering heat-
pools of water
just out of reach