wpadmin – Page 7 – Iron Haiku

dry and brittle leaves-
remnants of an early fall
captive in the snow
–
crisp white linens-
leaves tumble
in the wind

frigid midnight winds-
the moon smears lampblack shadows
on the virgin snow
–
wolf moon-
winter berries
turn to ash

light wind in my sails-
her long supple fingers glide
through tranquil water
–
soft water-
stillness arrives
on silenced oars

wrought iron street lamps-
ancient cobblestones vanish
in the rising fog
–
echos of hooves-
a hansom cab
lost in the mist

an old farmer’s wall-
nestled in amongst the stones
sprigs of verdant moss
–
clanking bells-
a worn cowpath
leading home

rails shrouded in fog-
a ghost train departs beneath
the approaching dawn
–
sunrise shadows-
nascent snow cradled in
dry autumn leaves

encroaching midnight-
the doomsday clock poised to toll
humanity’s dirge
–
pools of red wax-
guttering candles
cast their meager light

the rustling breeze-
leaves coerced from their branches
to dance in the wind
–
quarantined-
milkweed seeds float
past my window

honeysuckle wine-
content letting the front porch
host my slow decline
–
passing cars-
an afghan shrouds
her empty rocker

lost amid the clouds-
the afternoon sky whispers
my name to the wind
–
wistfully blue-
dandelions
in your hair